Free Fall
by Krys Yuy
Summary: Clark isn’t willing to risk his heart again. But when Fate gives him a glimpse into his future, the only question is – how hard will he fall? Clois. Post-Infamous. Spoilers up to Hex.
1. Shift

**Free Fall  
**Author: Krys Yuy  
Summary: Clark isn't willing to risk his heart again. But when Fate gives him a glimpse into his future, the only question is – how hard will he fall?  
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Lois, Chloe/?, Justice League  
Warning: Spoilers up to _Infamous_.  
Rating: PG/K+  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes only.  
Author's Notes: Clark and Lois don't want to leave my head, so here it is. The premise of a past version of Clark and/or Lois going to the future has been done before, but I thought I'd give it my own twist. Here's hoping I can live up to the many wonderful examples that came before me. =0) I hope I don't disappoint. Please read, review, and enjoy the story!

* * *

Chapter 1: Shift

Clark carefully avoided his reflection in the mirror as he put his hands through the sleeves of his black blazer. He pulled at the collar, straightening and smoothing out the lapels. As he headed out of his room, he grabbed his watch. He walked down the stairs and into the kitchen while trying to put it on his wrist. It took several tries before he was able to do it successfully. He frowned and shook his head. Memories of the forty-eight hours he had undone kept niggling at the back of his mind.

He didn't have time for this. He had to meet Lois at the café. They would sit down and talk, like mature adults, about what nearly happened at the wedding. He couldn't deny that there was something about Lois. However, he just wasn't ready to analyze it, especially after Lana. His heart was still trying to heal, and he owed Lois at the very least, that truth.

He was about to superspeed through the backdoor when there was a gentle nudge against his leg. He looked down to find Shelby staring back pitifully.

A corner of his mouth lifted and he bent down to scratch the golden retriever behind his ears. "Hey, boy," he whispered. "What is it?"

Shelby only continued to stare up at him, and Clark knelt down on one knee so he could rub the dog's soft fur. As if guessing his master's thoughts, Shelby whined and nudged his muzzle against Clark's jacket.

"What am I doing, Shelby?" Clark asked softly. Petting the kind golden retriever always helped soothe his nerves. "Sometimes I just don't know anymore." He glanced at his watch. "I have to meet Lois now."

At the sound of Lois' name, Shelby seemed to perk up noticeably and he barked twice, tongue lolling out. Clark let a small chuckle escape at that, and gave the dog another good scratch before he stood up. He supersped around the kitchen, setting a bowl of food down in front of Shelby before darting out the door, heading towards Metropolis.

A black blur or two later, Clark slowed down in an empty street a couple blocks from the café, Lois' favorite in all of Metropolis. He walked the rest of the way, but it seemed the closer to his destination, the slower his pace became. Then he froze completely once he caught sight of her waiting at the outside tables. He stood across the street just staring at her, suddenly very glad her back was to him.

Looking at her now, he couldn't go through with it. He couldn't talk to her about what almost happened at Chloe's wedding. Not when he was still nursing a broken heart. Not after the past forty-eight hours only he remembered.

This wouldn't be just a meeting between friends chatting over cups of coffee. This would be him discussing the implications of a romantic relationship with Lois. His friend, his partner, his… his…

He couldn't finish the thought. Whatever it was he felt for Lois, he couldn't confront it now. It was new and it was terrifying and Clark felt like he was standing on the edge of something impossibly high. He didn't have the nerve to look under the surface of his friendly affection for her, or try to piece together what everyone else seemed to see.

He did know one thing. He had to protect her. Even if it was from himself.

"_Lois can never know who I really am."_

"_Clark, is it safe to say that maybe another benefit from protecting your secret is getting to protect yourself from getting hurt?"_

Clark blocked Chloe's voice out of his head and tried to focus on the facts. At this moment in time, he couldn't take the giant leap of faith Lois needed. He felt small, insignificant, and so very alone. But after discovering his secret, in her actions, in her words, he had seen the possibility of everything.

And that scared him beyond anything else.

He couldn't possibly be feeling what he was feeling. Was that how little Lana meant to him? He couldn't move on, not now, not when his heart was still sore and bleeding. Not when he had just started to tentatively accept that he and Lana were never meant to be. It seemed all they could do was end up hurting each other.

But Lois…

"_I've been down the hero road before, and every time I've made a giant U-turn… but this, __**this**__ was different."_

Why? Why was she the only one whose words could affect him this way? Her words struck a chord in the very depths of his being. She had looked straight at him and laid herself bare. She seemed to do it so effortlessly, though he knew it must have killed her to admit anything to him. It was a vulnerability Lois had guarded well, but he liked these glimpses into her. Knowing the woman behind the hard-edged exterior, being privy to it made him feel… honored somehow.

Lois had the guts to lay all her cards on the table that night, betting everything, but he had been too afraid to reach out.

What made it worse was that she understood, on some level.

"_Clark. I understand."_

He knew in that moment she thought he didn't care about her. But he did. So much. Too much.

While still watching her form from across the street, he knew the scenario hadn't changed. The truth of the matter was he couldn't yet do the same. He couldn't risk his heart again. But she deserved to hear it straight from his mouth.

An image of her disappointed and pained eyes flashed through his head.

"_It's okay. Why should I think I'm special?"_

_I can't,_ he thought, _I can't see her like that again. _It was selfish and it was cowardly, but her words and expressions were still fresh in his mind. He set his jaw and typed a text message in his phone.

**Sorry swamped with work, can't make it.**

He held his breath as her posture shifted, but aside from straightening up a bit more, she didn't move too much. Several seconds past as he just gazed at her back before his ears picked up the beep coming from her phone. He tilted his head just as his own phone had an answering beep. He brought the screen to his eye-level, pressing a button so the message would appear.

**Chasing a lead, couldn't make it anyway.**

She was lying. His eyes scanned the message again and again as if it would somehow change. But no, it remained the same. Lois didn't want him to think she cared. And she especially didn't want him thinking she was waiting. For him. He tore his eyes away from the screen to the picture of Lois doing just that.

Watching her, now so obviously waiting for him, twisted something in his heart. He was still hurting her. It was impossible for her to emerge unscathed. Was there no way he could save her? He swallowed the lump in his throat, steeled himself, and looked away quickly.

_Go._

And he did. He kept his eyes stubbornly away from the café as he headed back down the empty street he initially came from. His right hand curled into a fist by his side.

_I'm sorry, Lois. I'm not the man you need me to be._

His heart seemed to grow heavier with each step he took. He never wanted to hurt her. Lois was his friend. One of his best friends. But he hadn't the courage to take that step toward her. Why?

_**Why?**_

He didn't dare look inside himself.

Clark was so lost in his troubling thoughts that he never noticed the bright light speeding towards him until it was too late. He was wrapped in its glow before he could blink, and then all he knew was blackness.

–

It seemed like ages later when his conscience stirred again. The first thing he became aware of was the all-consuming warmth surrounding him. The sensation was so pleasant he initially forgot the fear and panic from the moment he was taken. He moaned when the warmth began to move away and his arms tightened – a small part of his mind recognized that he had been holding the warmth the entire time. There was a light touch to his cheek, then his forehead, and he could have sworn he heard a small chuckle. But no, that couldn't be right. He was alone.

Before he could even finish the thought, there was an impression against his mouth as if someone had brushed their lips over his. It was quick, barely even a second, but the tingles it produced lasted much longer. They shot down his spine and he became

conscious of one fact – it felt very, very real. And vaguely familiar.

Clark loosened his hold in shock. But he was stunned again, this time by another twinkle of laughter and the sensation of lips soft against his temple. Then there was a whisper – husky and low and all too capable of intensifying the feelings the short kiss had evoked.

"Keep dreaming, handsome. The world can wait a few more minutes."

Clark kept his eyes shut tight, too afraid to see, and yet wanting nothing more. He made his breathing even and low, feigning sleep as the warmth, which he now concluded was a female body – a _naked_ female body, moved away. He was grateful for he surely would have given himself away. He could feel his cheeks burning with the added realization of his own nakedness. The sheets rustled and he felt them being tucked around him.

There was another brush of lips against the spot just behind his ear – it tickled but he managed to cover his reaction. The stranger moved away, and soon the double click of a door opening and then closing reached his ears. Running water sounded immediately after and Clark's eyes snapped open.

What was going on? Where was he? Who was that woman?

He sat up, the sheets falling to pool around his waist.

Where were his pants? Or all his clothes, for that matter?

_This is not good. Not good at all._ He was stuck, naked, in some stranger's apartment with no idea of how or why. Trying to firmly push the woman out of his mind, he focused on what he last remembered. A bright light encompassing him flitted through his mind. That, he supposed, was the how. There was still the matter of the why to attend to as well.

Humming filtered through his thoughts and he blinked, his eyes darting to the door. He stood quickly and held the sheet at his waist to protect his modesty as if the woman would suddenly appear in front of him. He practically dived for the dresser on the far side of the room. He flung open the first drawer but shut it twice as fast, face bright red. After a second or two, he took a deep breath and opened the drawer again slowly. He steadily avoided looking at the half of the drawer consisting of feminine garments. He grabbed at the men's underwear folded neatly in a stack, but not before spotting a lacy black bra. He closed the drawer with a gulp.

Clark supersped through the rest of the dresser, deciding it was better to just barrel through quickly and get it over with. He ended up with a pair of light blue pajama pants, a white muscle shirt, and a familiar red and gold plaid button-up shirt. He put on the clothes he had picked at random except for the plaid shirt.

He fingered the flannel material, even more flabbergasted than when he first woke. This was _his_ shirt. He had worn it plenty enough times to recognize it, and from its current state, it looked as if it had been worn many more times since. But it wasn't only that. He had seen a few more shirts of his, most of which were now faded, and the new ones he didn't recognize were ones he could have easily picked out himself.

Still clutching the flannel in his right hand, Clark decided to check the closet to confirm his suspicion. He crossed the room and, carefully listening to make sure the woman was still in the shower, swung the two doors open. It held an array of blouses and button-up shirts as well as skirts and pants. He pushed back a red blouse to stare at the familiar '8' of his high school football jersey. Belts and ties hung on hooks attached to the back of the doors. Clark also spied a variety of both casual and formal dresses to the right of the closet. Small rows of both men and women shoes were on the floor. Boxes were also piled on the shelf above the hangers.

Clark took it all in and paid particular attention to the men's clothing. There were many articles he recognized, but also many more he didn't. However, the same explanation from before applied here as well. If someone else hadn't chosen them, he could see himself picking them out just the same. His hand gripped his plaid shirt tightly.

He lived here.

It was a crazy idea to even contemplate, but a speedy survey of the room only seemed to provide further evidence. His clothes were here. The few pictures on the wall were places from all around the world – places he had always wanted to go and explore, but never had the chance to. Though there were only scenic shots, Clark instinctively knew he had been behind the camera.

The bedroom was big, but not too big to be uncomfortable. It actually seemed rather cozy. The closet doors were next to the bathroom. The last door on the next wall over lead to a hallway as seen by his x-ray vision. The dresser was placed against the same wall, and next to it was a desk, computer and chair. The bed was placed directly opposite the dresser with the headboard up against the wall. There was a nightstand and lamp on either side. In the direction opposite the bathroom and closet was a large picture window, the view currently obscured by the dark blue curtains.

He pushed the heavy fabric back to gap in awe at the view of the Metropolis skyline. He could see the Daily Planet globe spinning buildings away and even spotted Oliver's loft. Clark didn't have to look down to know the apartment he was in had to be pretty high up. He closed the curtains in fear his curiosity would win out over his fear of heights.

Clark shook his head and looked back around the room he stood in. All the furniture was made from dark rosewood, and – his fingers traced the intricate carvings along the edge – made by him. The pattern of the carvings was an idea he kept to himself. They had come to him while he was thinking in his own personal Fortress of Solitude. He had sketched them on paper and tucked it away in a random folder, never thinking he would actually use the design.

There were touches of himself all around the room.

Clark slid his arms through the sleeves of his plaid shirt, gazing around in equal parts wonder and confusion. Then he stopped and glanced down at himself as a sweet scent drifted up to his nose. He sniffed the collar of his shirt and the scent threatened to overwhelm him. It wasn't unpleasant though, and Clark kept the shirt on. Still, he blushed at the thought of the smell originating from the mystery woman still in the bathroom.

He lived in this place with her. Whoever she was. A place he didn't recognize, but felt connected to with only a few short glimpses. The why still hadn't been answered, but Clark began to speculate that the bigger question at the moment was _when_.

Was he… could it be possible… was he in the future?

Clark closed his eyes and tried not to lose his nerve. He would find out exactly how, when and why he had arrived. There was a reason for everything and he refused to let anxiety and fear claim him. He would find a way back to his reality.

The haphazard bed sheets met his gaze when he opened his eyes, and he looked away, but not before he caught sight of the two nightstands again. His side was the right, Clark guessed, as the stand on the left was cluttered with an alarm clock and various writing utensils, pieces of jewelry, and scraps of paper. He'd never leave things lying around, and the nightstand on the right seemed the better fit for his personality. It was devoid of any untidiness as there was only an alarm clock, phone, and framed picture. He saw himself with a woman in his arms. However, the frame was angled in such a way that he couldn't quite make it out, especially from his position at the end of the bed. What he could see of the woman's figure struck a bell of familiarity and his heart jumped.

Clark very slowly took one step at a time towards the nightstand on the right, eyes never leaving the woman in the framed image. The closer he got, the clearer details became and his heartbeat increased.

_It can't be. _

It was only when his hand reached out for the wooden frame that he realized he was shaking. His fingers closed around the edge of the picture. He picked it up, about to turn it towards him –

"Oh, morning! I promise I didn't use up all the hot water." There was a brief pause, followed innocently by: "I think."

Clark froze, now able to recognize the voice when it wasn't so husky. She sounded exactly the same, but it just wasn't possible. His mind had to be playing tricks on him. He steadily ignored the voice asking why he would be imagining her of all people then. He heard shuffling behind him as she continued to talk.

"It's definitely rare when I wake up before you." He could practically hear the smile in her voice, and the tiny laugh that followed put all his nerves on alert. "Though Chloe would kill me if I was late for the dress fitting today." A clatter against the dresser. "Aren't you going to use the shower, handsome?"

He couldn't move, he couldn't breath.

"Smallville?"

The familiar nickname jolted him out of his frozen state, and he did not miss the easy affection with which it was said. There was no disdain, frustration or annoyance creeping around its edges. There was only tenderness, underlined with a bit of worry at his silence. Even as he firmly tried to cut off the feeling, his heart still warmed at her caring tone. At her lovin –

Clark abruptly turned around, only to have his heartbeat skyrocket and his cheeks flush yet again. He didn't know what he was trying to prove. Everything from his heart to his head had already recognized her. But it was as if he needed to see her for his own eyes.

The woman who stood before him, despite the fact that she was clad only in a white towel, could be none other than the current enigma of his life.

She smiled at him, bright and wide and beautiful, and he found his own lips curving up in response.

_Lois Lane_.


	2. Surprise

**Free Fall**  
Author: Krys Yuy  
Summary: Clark isn't willing to risk his heart again. But when Fate gives him a glimpse into his future, the only question is – how hard will he fall?  
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Lois, Chloe/?, Justice League  
Warning: Spoilers up to _Infamous_.  
Rating: PG-13/T  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes only.  
Author's Notes: I can guarantee you that this will probably be the last time you find updates so close together. The fact that I cranked out this chapter only a day after the other one is a miracle. I actually would keep working on it if I could, but I now have to focus on the term paper I have that's due on Tuesday. I'll try to get another chapter out by next weekend, but no promises. Also, I want to thank everyone for their wonderful comments and for being so kind.  
Thanks to Chlollie, CuteANDSexxxy17, RleFay, Monaivendork, Loges, Nello15, IrishUnicorn, bones4life, Meg, Aaron Leach, 1eclecticreader, daydreamer10101, DefiGraviti, Lilbit4, CrazyLikeaFox, FeralShadowwolf, and Hakkyou Kuusou for taking the time to review! Everyone else who's favorited and/or put this on story alert, please tell me what you think! I'd love to get your feedback as well. And seriously, guys, reviews spur me on. The Clois fandom is amazing. This one's for you guys!

* * *

Chapter 2: Surprise

Lois Lane.

Hair and body still dripping wet from the shower, her white towel didn't leave much up to the imagination. She was all smooth skin and lovely curves, and Clark surprised himself by the vicious streak of possessiveness that struck him. So surprised that he didn't even notice when she came up to him on his side of the bed, placing a hand on his forehead. He almost flinched away from her touch if not for the caring expression that captivated him.

"Are you all right?" She frowned, biting her bottom lip worriedly. "You seem a little out of it."

Her touch was doing something to him. His chest felt funny and his throat closed up, so he could only nod woodenly.

"Did something happen yesterday?" Her hand moved from his forehead to trail down the side of his face before it finally stopped to cup his cheek. He barely resisted leaning into her touch. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He couldn't stop staring. This was Lois, and yet, not his Lois. There was something different about the Lois in front of him, something he couldn't pinpoint just yet. It didn't help that she was being so forward with him that he didn't know what to do.

Hazel eyes regarded him carefully. He recognized that look – _I guess some things don't change_ – and knew he was in trouble if he didn't play along and say something fast.

"I-I'm fine, Lois. I just had a strange dream, that's all," he said, keeping his voice firm and reassuring.

She didn't look convinced. If anything, her eyes narrowed as if trying to see through him. He had seen that look countless of times when she had a lead or a suspicion. How could he put her at ease?

He smiled and placed his own hand over hers, the one that cupped his cheek. He ignored the warmth of her skin. "I'm sorry I worried you. But I'm fine," he said softly. He threaded his fingers through hers and brought their linked hands down. "I promise."

Clark must have done something right because the next thing he knew, Lois was smiling again. His own smile grew wider of its own accord. She was making him react without so much as a word. He had to think, and a nearly naked Lois was counterproductive to that. He tried to recall something that would divert her attention.

"Don't you have to meet Chloe?" he asked, waiting for her reaction. He thought it was rather cute when she blinked, looked at the clock, and then proceeded to freak out.

"Crap! I was ahead of schedule too!" She ran to the closet, picking out a long-sleeved v-neck T-shirt and a pair of jeans, tossing them onto the bed and then running over to the dresser.

Clark's smile wiped off his face when she took off her towel and threw it in his direction. He had a glimpse of her gorgeous backside before he saw white and felt the dampness of cloth. _She's going to kill me._ He heard the shuffling of her putting on her clothes, and, counting slowly to ten, peeked out from behind the towel.

She was finishing dragging her jeans up her long legs and over red panties. He tugged at the collar of his muscle shirt and watched as she ran to the bathroom. There were various clanking noises and Lois emerged, brushing her hair up into a ponytail with a ponytail holder clutched in her mouth.

"Bis is all your pault, Smallbille!"

She ran by him to grab her purse on the desk, quickly checking the contents with one hand and muttering to herself. Clark took the towel off his head and folded it, laying it on the bed as Lois sorted out her things. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, somewhat bemused as she tied her hair into a ponytail while holding her purse and brush at the same time.

Lois sighed and went into the bathroom one more time to check her appearance. "If I didn't need the car today, I would totally be hitching a ride with you. So much more convenient."

Clark stiffened. Did she mean –?

"I could catch some more Z's on the way to the shower instead of driving myself." She yawned loudly and lightly slapped her cheeks. "If there weren't so many errands today…"

Clark breathed a sigh of relief, though he for some reason felt a large amount of disappointment at the same time. She was still in the dark about his secret. He frowned. Yet they were for some reason together. In a relationship. Living in the same apartment.

He was in a future where he was in a relationship with Lois Lane and they were living together.

His bluish-green eyes grew round and big staring at her just as she glanced back at him, only to do a double take.

"You're doing the wide-eyed thing again." She shook her head and laughed, swinging the strap of her purse over her left shoulder. "What? Did you forget you have to meet the guys for your own tux fitting?"

Tux fitting? Clark recovered quicker than the first time. He supposed the fact that Lois was now wearing clothes helped matters some. "No, it's not that." _I just have no clue what's going on!_ "I was thinking about my story for the paper."

Right when the words came out of his mouth, Clark resisted the urge to hit himself. What if he didn't work at the Daily Planet anymore? He couldn't imagine doing anything else though, and hoped he hadn't made a different career choice.

"Oh, the lead that didn't pan out?" she asked nonchalantly. She walked to the dresser and touched the jewelry box placed on top of it. She opened the lid and took out something he couldn't see.

He blinked, wondering why things seemed to be working in his favor. "Umm, yeah," he agreed. "I… was just… worried. Worried that I wouldn't get the story done in time because of that."

"Smallville, you know I wouldn't let that happen to my partner." She tossed him a grin over her shoulder. "I'd make sure you get it done."

Her partner? Were they still working across from each other? He didn't know why that pleased him. She turned and took a few steps toward him, looking down at her wrist. She was putting on her watch so she didn't notice when Clark took a step back, uncomfortable with her proximity. She was so intimate with him and it was catching him off guard.

"Okay, now I definitely need to get going." She walked forward a few more steps and he forced himself to stand still, even as his heartbeat picked up. "I think I have everything," she murmured to herself. She looked up, smiling. She seemed so genuinely happy and content. He could read it in her gaze.

It was so small that Clark didn't even acknowledge it for what it was, but a tiny spark of hope lit inside his heart.

"See you," she whispered, eyes twinkling.

"S-s-" Clark swallowed the lump in his throat at the way she was looking at him. His mind flashed back to a certain Valentine's Day. "See you." He stared down at her, unsure of what to do – she seemed to be waiting for something.

For some reason, Lois rolled her eyes but it was with an exasperated amusement. "Holding out on me, Smallville?"

He stared at her, puzzled. "Huh?"

She hooked her arms around his neck. "I have to do everything around here, don't I?" she joked. Before he could get her meaning, she raised herself on her toes and gave him a gentle teasing kiss. A shiver ran down his back and his hands placed themselves on her waist all on their own. It lasted long enough that he began to kiss her back, but that's when she stopped.

Lois pulled away, her arms still around him, and leaned back against his embrace. She placed one hand on his white muscle shirt, while the other fingered the edges of the plaid shirt he hadn't bothered to button up. "This is my shirt, I'll have you know," she said, smirking.

"Your shirt?" he repeated dumbly, still reeling.

She tugged at the lapels, bringing him down to her eye level. "Yeah. _Mine_." She pressed a hard kiss against his lips, blindsiding him, and didn't give him the chance to respond. The previous kiss had given him shivers. This time he saw _sparks_. She smiled against his mouth. "But I suppose I'll let you borrow it for now."

She winked and Clark blinked back, dazed. His heart was beating like crazy and he couldn't seem to get a proper word out. The world was spinning around him pleasantly and all he could see was her. What was _this_?

"Bye, handsome." She pulled out of his embrace. Lois trailed her left hand along his right arm slowly. There was a cold sensation left behind by her fingers, but he was too mesmerized by the expression in her eyes to look down and see what it was. Lois let the tips of her fingers linger against his until the last possible second when they had to break apart.

"I'll see you at the shower tonight." Her mouth seemed fixed in a permanent smile as she winked. "And try to make sure the guys don't mess around. Particularly the groom." She rolled her eyes. "Tell them this is the last appointment! I will not be rescheduling it again."

She was already out in the hallway as she called, "Got it?"

Clark blinked again and quickly ran to the doorway, sticking his head out just in time to see her reach the front door. "Got it," he replied, even though he really didn't. He was rewarded with yet another smile before she was gone.

The silence followed by her departure seemed particularly foreboding as Clark found himself very much alone. He suddenly missed Lois – her whirlwind of activity and smiles had distracted him from his situation. Then again, her presence only brought more questions than answers. She most definitely complicated things if her kisses and touches were anything to go by. But still. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't a comfort to have her near him. He didn't know what else had changed and he clung to the familiar. Even if that familiar had shifted somewhat. He was still trying to decide if that was good or bad.

Stranded in the middle of the hallway, Clark wondered what he should do. He could run off and investigate, but apparently, he had an appointment to keep. He just didn't know where or with whom. He didn't want to risk any kind of suspicion, especially when he was still trying to figure out what was going on.

_This is going to work out great._ Clark sighed and ran a hand through his hair. There was a movement out of the corner of his eye, and he turned slightly to see his reflection gazing back at him from a weird angle. He walked further down so that the reflection came into a better perspective and he was facing the mirror straight on. He ignored the pictures mounted in the hallway, still finding it hard to believe he was in a relationship with Lois. Seeing the pictures would make it all the more real, somehow.

So instead, he inspected the image being reflected back at him. He looked relatively unchanged, but even Clark could see he had aged at least a few years. The angles of his face seemed more defined. He touched the glass, taking in everything about his reflection. What did this new development mean? He had been sent to the future, hadn't he? Though, looking at himself now, not as completely as he first thought. He wasn't in his body. He had aged.

This had to be the body of his future self. That fact alone ruled out the possibility of it being an alternate universe. Well, at least ninety-nine percent. Unless he discovered something really drastic, he had to assume he was in the future. All signs pointed in that direction.

And just to make sure – Clark supersped through the entire apartment before finally ending up in the kitchen. He looked at the small calendar hung on the refrigerator by a magnet.

_May 2015._

Six years into the future, give or take a few months. That would make him twenty-eight, he deduced quickly. He leaned back against the island, not knowing why he was feeling shocked all over again. Since he was in the future, he knew he had to prepare himself for what would probably be a lot more surprises.

He sighed, shaking his head. He just had to take things one at a time and not overwhelm himself. He walked around the island to look out beyond the elevated counter and into the cozy dining area. It had a dining room table that could fit four, but there were only two chairs. Noting the design spiraling up the table legs, Clark knew he made these pieces of furniture as well. He vaguely wondered if he had made all the furniture in the apartment, and what he told Lois about them.

From his speedy survey of the apartment, he knew that there were a couple of bar stools on the other side of the counter. There was an archway next to the counter connecting the dining area and kitchen. The kitchen was modestly spaced with an island between the fridge and the counter. Next to the dining area was the living area, which had the television, a couch and a lounge chair. A bookcase containing books and DVDs sat in the corner by the TV, which was hung up on the wall. He smiled a little when he saw the game consoles stacked on the entertainment shelf beneath the TV and what had to be a 2015-updated version of the Guitar Hero guitar propped next to it. The dining area and the living area was actually just one big room with three connections to other sections of the apartment. One led to the kitchen, the other to the main hallway, and the last led to a spacious balcony.

Clark couldn't imagine going out there very often. The glass doors to the outside were directly opposite the counter, all the way on the other side of the room. Lois probably liked the balcony for the view. Like the bedroom, it offered the impressive Metropolis skyline including the sight of the Daily Planet. He pictured Lois on the balcony during her free time, sitting at the glass table with her laptop, working on a story and ever so often looking up to see the Daily Planet globe.

Clark walked into the living area to stare at the rotating sphere as if it would somehow inspire him. Approaching the sliding glass doors, he looked out and realized with a start that it was a corner balcony, practically a wrap around. It started at the living area before going around the corner and stopping at the division between the kitchen and dining area. He hadn't noticed in his previous review of the apartment as he wasn't too keen on looking outside. Leave it to Lois to choose an apartment with a large balcony even knowing he was afraid of heights. If he hadn't told her his secret, he had to have told her at least that much.

He wandered back out into the hallway, and looked at the front door. He toyed with the idea of just leaving, but discarded it before the idea had fully formed. He wanted to try to meet whoever it was he had to meet according to Lois, but it looked like his future self didn't keep a planner. He had checked all the rooms, even the spare bedroom and bathroom – the closest rooms to the front door on the left side of the hallway – but still nothing.

He was considering braving a trip to the Daily Planet when there was a knock at the door that was trying to imitate some kind of song. He looked down at his pajama pants and supersped into the bedroom he shared with Lois – he still couldn't quite get over that – before appearing back by the front door in new attire. He wore a pair of black slacks and a button-up white dress shirt with his cuffs folded back.

The knocking hadn't stopped yet and he opened the door without checking the peephole.

"Hey, amigo!"

Clark grinned. "Bart!"

His old friend had grown a few more inches and he had cut his hair. It was spiky again, reminiscent of the time they first met, only the spikes were shorter. His features had become a bit hardened as well, not as rounded as before. He looked older and wiser. Still, there was no mistaking the mischievous sparkle in his green eyes.

"Come in," Clark invited, holding the door open wider and gesturing.

"No can do, my friend." Bart leaned casually against the doorframe, looking quite comfortable and casual in a pair of dark jeans and a red hoodie. "I was just coming to check on you – everyone else is in the middle of getting their measurements done at that place in downtown Metropolis. It's been like thirty minutes since we were supposed to meet."

Clark's eyes widened and he immediately replied, "I'm sorry." His brain supplied him with a somewhat lame excuse. "I lost the directions and I couldn't remember the name of the place…"

"That's strange. You were the one who found it in the first place," Bart commented, looking him up and down.

_How am I ever going to get through this day?_ he thought, mentally groaning. "Um, yeah, it must have slipped my mind," he lied. He decided to go with what worked before. "I'm sorry, I was pre-occupied with a story I have to get in for the Planet."

Bart lifted his hands up. "Say no more, amigo. Lois must be riding you hard, huh?" He grinned cheekily.

Clark blushed crimson. "Bart!" Images of Lois from earlier came back to the forefront of his mind. _I can't think about that!_ Even as he glowered at Bart for putting it in his head, he held in his sigh of relief that the excuse had worked. _Another bullet dodged. For now._

His friend laughed heartily. "Come on, man. I had to say it," he said, giving Clark's shoulder a slap. "You're just too easy."

Clark sighed. "Let's go." He opened the hallway closet and took out the first thing he touched. He slipped on the casual black coat, grabbed the keys hanging on the hook by the door, and was about to head out when he noticed Bart staring at him strangely again.

_Now what didn't I do?_ He tried to play it cool. "What?" he said, hoping his smile didn't seem too forced.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Bart asked, tilting his head.

_I really, really hope not._ "I don't think so," he replied.

Bart tapped his own face, the spot next to his eyes. Clark frowned, his face scrunching together in confusion. "What?" he repeated.

"Dude, your glasses!" Bart exclaimed, mimicking putting a pair of his own on.

Clark looked at his friend, dumbfounded. "My… glasses…?" he said slowly. He remembered spying a pair of black frames on the coffee table, but hadn't given it much thought. Bart was looking at him expectantly, and he knew he had to go along with it. "My glasses! Oh, right." He turned and blew out a breath that Bart couldn't see. "Right."

Clark supersped to the living area and was back in front of Bart in less than a second, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger. He also slipped what he assumed was his cell phone into his coat pocket. He found it lying on the couch and figured if Lois hadn't taken it, it had to be his.

"Thanks for reminding me," he said to Bart. His friend was still looking at him like he had grown two heads. "Sorry – it's just, I have a lot on my mind."

Bart blinked as if a light went on in his head. "Right! That surprise you're planning for Lois. Wow, sorry, I forgot that you were arranging that alongside with all this other stuff," he said. He slapped Clark's shoulder another time in gratitude. "Thanks again, man."

"No problem," Clark replied, even though he had no idea what Bart was talking about. A surprise for Lois? And what else was he arranging?

Before he could weigh the consequences of asking, Bart was already heading out. "Come on, man!" he called over his shoulder. "The guys are probably getting antsy."

Clark stepped out into the hallway with the doors to other apartments, and was pleased it looked stylish and well taken care of. He turned, locked the door, and then sped up to walk alongside Bart.

Bart turned around and began walking backwards to talk to him. "You know, we can always ditch. Grab some burritos from our favorite Mexican place." He grinned. "What do you say?"

"I'd rather not incur Lois' wrath," Clark answered dryly, remembering her words from earlier. "She said it was the last appointment she'd schedule for us." Clark gave him a pointed look. "I don't think you want her angry."

Bart winced. "Yeah, they do have that in common, don't they?"

_They?_ Clark was beginning to feel the first tendrils of frustration. Not knowing what he was obviously supposed to know in this time put him at a serious disadvantage. He tried to come up with a subtle approach to find out what he wanted without giving himself away.

Bart kept on talking. "But come on, man! I hate these fittings. I can't stand still for that long!"

"How many have you actually gone through?" Clark asked. He kept his tone meaningful as if he meant for the question to be rhetorical.

Bart replied anyway, much to Clark's relief. "Okay, so none of them! But you know it's not my fault we got called away right before those other appointments," he protested. "The bad guys don't take a day off."

Clark nodded, but realized with a start that he hadn't seen his red jacket or blue shirt anywhere in the apartment. That meant he couldn't slow down to let any of the cameras catch his blur if he had to do any saving. His future self must have it hidden it somewhere so Lois wouldn't find it. He would have to search the apartment again later.

Bart must have taken his silence as an admonishment because the next thing Clark knew, his friend was at the end of the hallway by the fire escape. "Okay, fine. Let's get it over with, then." Bart sighed, opening the window. "I mean, does the groom really have to dress up though? Everyone's going to be looking at the bride, anyway. I could dress in rags and I doubt anyone would notice. I wouldn't care in the slightest."

Clark felt a surge of happiness for his friend. _Bart's the groom?_ He grinned. "I think your bride would care. A lot," he commented, wishing he could congratulate him.

Bart sighed again, this time in mock irritation as he winked. "The things I do for Chloelicious," he said with a grin. "It must be love." He laughed and was already speeding away in a flash of red.

Clark stood, stupefied, before racing after him. He would have preferred to absorb the implications of Bart's statement standing still, but if he didn't follow the speedster, then he wouldn't know where to go. Clark caught up to him down in the street and Bart began running backwards, and Clark's mind flashed back to the first time they met.

"So how about burritos _after_? I'll go crazy otherwise," he said, somehow able to maneuver without running into anything.

"We have the shower to go to," Clark replied, his voice a bit faint, still trying to process that Bart was marrying Chloe. What happened to Jimmy? Did they get divorced? Maybe he really was in an alternate universe?

"Dude, it's us! We'll be in and out before anyone even shows up!" Bart turned around just in time and avoided a truck, bypassing it smoothly. Even with his confusion, Clark rolled his eyes at the smug look on Bart's face.

"I don't think Lois or Chloe –" He paused, taking that in. "– would appreciate that very much."

Bart suddenly stopped in an alley before walking at normal speed around the corner. Clark followed suit and saw a quaint little shop that had a variety of tuxedoes and formal wear displayed in the shop window. Bart put his hand on the door handle and looked back at him.

"I'm sure your lovely wife would let you out to play if you just asked," Bart commented with a smirk.

He turned back around to enter the shop before he could witness Clark freeze in mid-step.

"– _your lovely wife –"_

"– _wife –"_

_**Wife.**_


	3. Assumption

**Free Fall**  
Author: Krys Yuy  
Summary: Clark isn't willing to risk his heart again. But when Fate gives him a glimpse into his future, the only question is – how hard will he fall?  
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Lois, Chloe/Bart, Oliver/?, Justice League  
Warning: Spoilers up to _Hex_.  
Rating: PG-13/T  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes only.  
Author's Notes: Wow, another update! I'm on a roll (those used to my writing pattern know that this is really unlike me). I guess this just proves the power of Clark and Lois. Anyway, thanks again for all the amazing support! Thanks to everyone who took the time to review! (cloisharley, NaomiBlue, Aaron Leach, Dreamscometrue16, ThisIsRealThisIsMe, RleFay, CuteANDSexxxy17, Lavenderlily12, f1ameseeker, Sounni, Hakkyou Kuusou, daydreamer10101, Cath, artiist1284, CrazyLikeaFox, Seersha, buckinut, reeven, IrishUnicorn, k3josai, L.O.T.D., Evergreen, mszdatu) – You guys all rock! If you have a Fanfiction . Net account, I will try to be better about responding to your reviews because I love you guys for leaving one. Your reviews inspire me to write more. Everyone else who's favorited and/or put this on story alert, please tell me what you think! I'd love to get your feedback as well.  
I hope you guys enjoy this update. Now, please read, review and enjoy! P.S. I have not forgotten about his wedding ring. It will come into play later.

* * *

Chapter 3: Assumption

_**Wife.**_

Wife. Wife. Wife.

Wifewifewifewifewifewife-

He remembered the cold sensation he had somehow been able to feel through his flannel shirt when Lois trailed her left hand along his right shoulder and arm. With a start, he realized it must have been her wedding band. How on earth had he missed that?

_Lois Lane is my wife._

Clark felt like the world had unexpectedly imploded, and then rearranged itself. He was suddenly looking at everything in a wondrous new way. When he imagined his future, he was always afraid he would be alone, enforced further by the forty-eight hours that once again proved how dangerous his secret was to the people he cared about. Obviously though, something had changed. Not only was he in a relationship, he was _married_. To Lois Lane.

Brash, bossy, tough, courageous, endearing, attractive Lois Lane.

A smile unbidden spread across his lips.

But before he could really think about the ramifications of that particular revelation, a voice cut through his reeling thoughts.

"Clark, is there a reason you're standing there with that goofy expression on your face?" a familiar voice asked. "Or did you just want to enjoy the view of the sidewalk?"

Clark blinked and refocused his gaze to see the amused expression of one Oliver Queen. Oliver looked exactly the same, all blonde hair and brown eyes, an impish grin lighting the corners of his mouth. He had on black slacks and a casual white cardigan. But there were the telltale signs of growth along his upper lip and chin.

Oliver noticed his look and rubbed his chin in response. "What do you think? I know it's been awhile since we last saw each other, but I personally think this new look will work for me," he commented.

"It's… different," Clark conceded, trying to imagine Oliver with a mustache and goatee. He tucked thoughts of Lois away for a later time, knowing he would have to keep his wits about him if he were meeting anymore of his friends. "Sorry," he apologized for what felt like the tenth time. How long was playing dumb going to work? "There's been a lot on my mind recently."

"No kidding," called another voice. Bart appeared next to Oliver in the doorway and shook his head. "Dude, you are way off today."

Oliver turned curious. "How so?" he asked.

"Well, he forgot his glasses and –"

Clark didn't like how Oliver's eyebrows rose at that, and wondered how important a stupid pair of glasses was. It's not like he needed them! But the last thing he wanted were the gears in Oliver's head turning. "Bart, aren't you supposed to be standing still for the tailor right now, instead of commenting on my absentmindedness?" he interrupted.

Bart made a face. "Honestly, why can't I just wear my costume?" he asked, darting glimpses behind him into the store.

Oliver glanced around at the somewhat quiet street and chuckled. "Maybe because not all your wedding guests like playing that kind of dress up."

Bart waved a casual hand in the air. "Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe," he said, shrugging.

"Are you guys actually going to stand out here all day?" A.C. popped his head out between Oliver and Bart. "Vic and I are already done."

A.C. turned his head slightly, giving Clark a view of his shoulder-length ponytail. But besides that, his aqua-loving friend seemed unchanged. Perhaps slightly taller, but that was it. He wore an orange muscle shirt with green stripes running along the side and dark green track pants. He grinned at him.

"Hey Clark. Finally decided to join us, huh?"

Clark shrugged sheepishly and pushed his glasses up again. They kept slipping and he wondered not for the first time why he bothered. "Sorry," he replied, but gave no further explanation. Honestly, he wasn't feeling that sorry at all. Despite his reservations, he had to admit it was nice seeing his friends. It had been awhile.

"How are you?" he asked politely, making his way into the store behind the others.

A.C. sighed. "Thirsty."

"You're always thirsty," said a voice from the back of the room.

Clark walked further into the shop and saw Victor lounging on one side of the stylish beige couch. His friend wore a pair of black jeans and a gray T-shirt covered with 1s and 0s in various sizes and shapes. He had also grown taller, but his overall build remained the same, deceptively normal, but – Clark checked quickly with his x-ray vision – still a body of metal and wires.

"I need more than eight glasses of water a day," A.C. grumbled under his breath. "I'd rather not have my skin all dry like you guys."

"Who has dry skin?" Oliver asked, a bit affronted.

Victor chuckled and nodded in Clark's direction. "Hey, man. We thought you weren't going to show," he commented.

Clark winced at yet another reminder of his ignorance. "Umm, I was –"

"He forgot how to get here," Bart interrupted. Clark glanced over at him in exasperation and Bart shrugged. "What? That's what you said."

"You forgot?" Oliver echoed, a note of disbelief in his tone. Somehow, Clark knew he was frowning again even though he was faced away from him.

"There was a story…" Clark trailed off, not knowing what else to say. If he played it off as a simple oversight on his part, then they would be less wary. He hoped.

He stepped up on the low platform placed in front of a three-paneled mirror. It was situated against the middle of the back wall. He gave the room a quick once-over, using the reflection of the mirror. Decorated in varying shades of beige and black, the shop gave off a subtle classy feel. The front of the room had displays and carefully arranged products of men's formal wear.

Clark nodded respectfully at the short bald man with glasses who came up to him. He had a loose length of measuring tape around his neck and a kind smile, setting Clark at ease.

"Mr. Kent," he greeted, reaching out to shake his hand. "I'm glad that you and your party could finally make it." There was no annoyance whatsoever in his tone and he seemed genuinely grateful for their business.

Clark nodded again and smiled in return, standing patiently as the tailor began to work around him. He raised his arms obediently when the owner began to measure the length from his shoulder to his wrist. Clark began to understand why he chose this shop for the groom's side of things. He wouldn't have been surprised if he had used this shop for his own ceremony.

His thoughts inevitably turned to Lois and his cheeks burned. _My wife… Huh._ It was starting to sound less and less strange the more it looped around his head. Still, he had to consciously hold himself back, instinctively recognizing that he was treading on dangerous ground.

"He's not even listening," Victor said somewhere in the background.

"Yoo-hoo, Earth to Clark." Bart waved a hand in front of his face and Clark focused on him with a confused blink. "See, I told you." He looked behind Clark at the guys. "Way off."

"What?" Clark asked, looking at his friends in the reflection. They looked back at him skeptically. "Like none of you have had an off day." _I'm just having a more bizarre one than most._

A.C. shrugged from where he now sat next to Victor. "You've been so on top of everything regarding Bart and Chloe's ceremony that it's a little weird that you forgot. I mean, seriously, you take the time to remind us about appointments and stuff when we're in the middle of –" He glanced at the tailor. "– work."

Since when had he become a wedding planner? Clark only had to think about it for a few seconds before the answer came to him. "Well, I answer to a boss," he replied wryly, knowing only Lois could have roped him into it.

"Well, that's true," Oliver agreed, smirking.

Clark rolled his eyes. He spread his legs a little when the tailor began to measure his inseam.

"Why aren't you the one reminding us about this stuff again?" Victor asked, and Clark watched as his friend gave Bart a pointed look.

Bart raised his hands in surrender. "Look, if it were up to me, Chloelicious and I would have tied the knot in Vegas already," he replied.

Clark looked down when there was a sigh by his feet and the tailor muttered to himself.

"Vegas, he says," he grumbled. "Young men are too eager these days…" Only Clark could hear him and he smiled a little.

"All this –" Bart continued on, gesturing at the contents around the shop. "– is 'cause Chloe wants it. But she knows better than to expect me to remember the little details." He leaned back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. "The only thing I'll be remembering after all this is the sight of my girl walking up the aisle to me in her smokin' dress and me taking her into my arms and kissing her like there's no tomorrow."

"I didn't know you were so romantic," Oliver commented dryly.

"It's the truth." Bart shrugged. "This girly stuff is for the girl." He crossed his arms. "As long as she's mine, I really could care less about everything else."

Clark frowned. "This is your wedding, Bart," he said. "It only happens once. Don't you want everything to be perfect for her?"

"I know!" Bart exclaimed, looking at Clark indignantly. "That's why I asked you to help me, remember?" He ran a hand through his spikes. "I'm no good at this kind of thing. I'd just mess something up."

Clark instantly felt bad. Bart obviously did care and he had asked his future self for help. Before he could think of some way to apologize without it being obvious he hadn't known, the tailor stood up and scribbled down some notes. He placed the pencil behind his ear and tucked the paper pad into his back pocket.

"All done, Mr. Kent," he said. He looked at Bart from above his lenses. "Mr. Allen, if you please…" He gestured to the platform as Clark stepped down.

Bart looked to be almost in a state of dread, and Clark resisted the urge to laugh. "Come on, it doesn't take that long," he said.

Oliver pushed Bart forward. "The sooner you do it, the sooner it's over with," he said. "Then we can all go back to headquarters and talk about the project."

_Project?_ While he was doing fine now, Clark knew he'd be walking on thin ice if they were going to talk about things regarding the League. There was only so much he could pretend to know before his luck ran out. He tried to concentrate on the conversation going around him even as his mind worked on the possibilities.

Bart was already starting to fidget as he took his place on the platform. "Why couldn't you go before me?" He frowned at Oliver.

"Hey, I was here before all you slackers." Oliver grinned and relaxed against the black lounge chair. "Don't try to prolong the inevitable."

"Eager to get your measurements for when you finally pop the question to Dinah?" A.C. teased, obviously pleased when Oliver began to sputter.

"Wh-? I don't even– Did she –" Oliver clenched the velvet material of the chair. "We've only been dating for a year!"

"Okay, he's not ready," Victor commented, getting a nod and laugh from A.C. and a smirk from Bart. Clark remained silent, trying to imagine Dinah with Oliver, though he still smiled a bit at his friend's reaction.

"A quiet team. Why couldn't I have picked a quieter team?" Oliver muttered to himself.

Clark chuckled at that, but then felt his phone vibrate in his jacket pocket. He took out the cell and flipped it open to read the text message.

**You better be at the tux shop with your rainbow-colored friends.**

His brow furrowed. Sometimes he just didn't get Lois' references. He typed in a quick reply.

**Yes, Lois.**

He didn't think she was done yet, and his hunch was rewarded when another text came seconds later.

**Smooth-talker hasn't run out on you, has he? Do I need to make a cousin call?**

Clark grinned, shaking his head. Why was Lois the only one who could make him feel lighter than anything? A quick rush of the fingers and his reply was sent a second later.

**Bart stuck around. Looks like he might be serious about this.**

A few seconds later his phone beeped again.

**Ha. He better be.**

That seemed like the end, so Clark was about to close his phone when another text came through.

**P.S. You're such a text showoff. ;P**

He raised an eyebrow. What did she mean by that? He shrugged and slipped his phone back in his pocket. He looked up to find all his friends giving him Cheshire cat grins. Even Bart was grinning in the mirror at him.

"Six years later and you're still so lovesick," Victor commented, laughing. He nudged A.C. in the side. "Cute, huh?" he added teasingly.

"So cute," A.C. agreed, nodding and trying to hold in his laugh.

"Six years?" Ollie chuckled. "Make it eleven! Our dynamic duo just denied their feelings when they first met."

"Excuse me," Clark interrupted hotly, his cheeks and neck burning with embarrassment. "When did this become about me and Lois?"

"When you couldn't take your eyes off the texts from Mad Dog Lane," Victor replied knowingly.

Clark frowned. Had he really…?

"Hey, Bart, you may want to get tips from the big man here, though," A.C. said, gesturing to Clark. "Married nearly three years and still going strong."

Clark's heart jump-started. _Three years?_

A.C. continued, "In case the sizzle ever runs out, y'know." He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "But feel free to come to any of us, too."

"Please." Bart snorted. "The last thing Chloelicious and I need advice on is the _sizzle_." He grinned.

A.C. rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

The tailor stepped back and took out his pad from his back pocket. He jotted down what Clark assumed were the rest of Bart's measurements before looking up with a polite smile. "All done," he said.

"Yes!" Bart hopped down from the platform. "Burritos all around!"

The others gave him odd looks but Clark smiled a little. The tailor came up to him specifically and said, "I'll have the tuxes done in two weeks, along with the custom vests Ms. Sullivan requested. I'll give you a call when they're ready for pick-up."

Clark shook his hand firmly. "Thank you very much," he said.

Bart joined them and also shook the tailor's hand. "Yeah, thanks," he said, seeming a bit uncomfortable but still sincere.

"No problem at all, gentlemen," the tailor replied, nodding.

Clark and Bart exited the store where their other three companions were already waiting. Oliver stood next to his limo, leaning against the open door. "Shall we?" he asked.

"Move over, green beans," Victor stated, squeezing past the billionaire and into the limo.

A.C. followed suit with a shrug at Oliver's indignant expression. Oliver looked at Clark and Bart, frowning. "Well?"

Bart clapped a hand on Clark's shoulder. "Come on, amigo," he said. "Time to save the world."

Clark stood still as Bart moved ahead and joined the others in the limo. Oliver remained standing outside and looked over at him curiously. "What are you waiting for, boy scout?"

Clark tilted his head as far-off sounds of struggle reached him. "Sorry, Oliver, I'll have to take a rain check," he said. He saw Oliver open his mouth, but then Clark was gone with only a gust of wind in his wake.

–

Hours later, after running all over Metropolis stopping muggings, rescuing people from burning buildings, and generally helping wherever he could without being seen, Clark found himself staring up at the Daily Planet. The tint of the setting sun made the building look all the more golden and awe-inspiring. Though he had a hundred questions that needed answering, one stood out more than anything else after his rescue spree.

Who was Superman?

The name had been on everyone's lips as would-be victims, bystanders, and even local authority figures chattered, some even whispering excitedly. It was like they were waiting for that person to show up and save the day. And through all his saves, he heard no mention, not even a tiny peep, about the Red-Blue Blur.

Clark frowned. Was this hero a friend of Oliver's? And what kind of name was Superman, anyway? Clark thought it sounded a bit arrogant as if someone was too full of himself. He needed to find out what had happened, and that was why he was currently standing in front of the building of one of the world's best known, critically acclaimed newspapers.

This was an answer he could easily get without exposing himself. All the unanswered questions about Lois and the League could only be answered by them, and Clark had no desire to reveal what happened to him until he had more of a grip on this reality. Superman – Clark still scoffed a bit at the name – would definitely be in the news, and where better to get it? Obviously, he couldn't find out his identity, but he could at least get an impression of what he was like.

Clark hoped he wouldn't be bombarded with more mysteries, but he knew he wouldn't get anywhere if he second-guessed himself. He walked through the revolving door – _that's new_ – and found himself in the lobby. It looked pretty much the same and Clark held in his sigh of relief. It was nice to see that one thing remained constant. He started heading down to the basement when a voice called out to him.

"C.K.! What are you doing here?"

He smiled and turned around. "Jimmy!"

Seeing his auburn haired friend up and about sent a wave of happiness through him. He was glad that Jimmy hadn't suffered any permanent damage from the attack at the wedding. Thinking of that day, though, made the smile fade from his face. There was a time when he thought Jimmy and Chloe would be happy forever. Clearly, that wasn't the case and Clark wondered how many more surprises awaited him the longer he remained in the future.

Still, it seemed like the fallout of Jimmy's relationship with Chloe hadn't affected him too badly, at least on the surface. Though Jimmy seemed a bit puzzled to see him, his smile was still beaming from his face. He had a manila folder on hand and a camera around his neck.

"Aren't you supposed to be at –" Jimmy's smile suddenly seemed a tiny bit forced. "– Chloe's bridal shower right about now?"

Clark took out his cell phone and checked the time. _6:54_. He didn't even know what time the shower was supposed to be at or even where it was. He could try calling Lois, but knew there was no way he could claim he had forgotten with her. Wincing at the possibility of that confrontation, he looked up and immediately felt bad. Jimmy's smile had faded away and now, he just seemed sad. He stared off into space at some point over Clark's shoulder.

Clark cleared his throat a little and Jimmy's attention focused back on him. "Umm, how did you know?" he asked. "About the shower, I mean?"

A bit of life went back into Jimmy's expression as he shrugged sheepishly. "I kinda peeked at the invitation on your desk," he confessed. "I'm sorry. I got curious, y'know? I know things between Chloe and I ended badly, but it still…" He blew out a breath. "I've moved on, and so has she, obviously. Sometimes it's just… hard."

"I know," Clark replied, suddenly thinking of Lana. His heart ached, but he was surprised that the sting was no longer as sharp as it had been before.

"Ugh, what am I saying?" Jimmy hit his forehead with his fist lightly and shook his head. "It's been six years."

"First loves are hard to forget," Clark whispered. The pain of their last kiss flashed through his mind, and he winced. Even in the end, all they had done was hurt each other. There were so many regrets and Clark abruptly felt like he tasted something awful in his mouth.

He firmly shut thoughts of Lana away when Jimmy spoke again. "I can't say it's not bittersweet. The idea of Chloe marrying someone else… well, it's weird," he admitted. "But I'm happy for her. Tell her that for me, will you?"

"Yeah, of course," Clark replied, nodding.

Jimmy smiled in thanks, but then looked troubled all over again. "Wow, I totally just dumped all that on you, didn't I? I'm so sorry, C.K.," he apologized. "Am I keeping you from the party?"

_The party. Right._ Clark shook his head. "Actually, I just…" He thought of Lois and smiled. "I needed to pick up something for Lois at her desk."

"Oh, I was heading that way, too. I got some pictures for the Chief," Jimmy said, holding up the folder in his hand. "I thought I'd slide it under his door in case I forget to bring them to work on Monday. Come on." He got into an elevator that opened its doors a few feet away from them.

Clark glanced back at the stairs to the basement and then back to Jimmy, who was holding the doors open. Had he and Lois been promoted? _It has been six years._ Suddenly pleased, Clark entered the elevator and watched Jimmy press a button for one of the higher floors.

They were the only two inside when the doors closed and Clark thought it was a perfect opportunity to get his friend's opinion. "So, Jimmy…" When he looked over at him, he asked, "What do you think of Superman?"

Jimmy looked at him strangely and Clark wondered if they had this conversation already. He thought about backpedaling, but Jimmy answered a second later. "He's amazing. He saves so many people, but he never expects anything in return. You know he's an all-around great guy. Very classy." Jimmy's expression turned sly. "What brought this on? You think Superman's finally going to sweep Lois off her feet? Metaphorically this time?"

"What?" Clark asked, immediately alert. He didn't like the implications of that question. "Why would I think that?"

"Oh, you know I'm kidding, C.K." Jimmy raised his hands in a placating motion. "If it were anyone else, I'd say there would be a reason to worry. But not with Lois." He shook his head. "If you two aren't a couple of the epic proportions, then I don't know who else would be."

Warmth stirred in his chest, and Clark sincerely replied, "Thanks, Jimmy." His voice lowered to a soft whisper. "It's nice to hear that."

"They're just good friends," Jimmy said reassuringly. "Lois likes to act like she's his exclusive reporter, but he gives interviews elsewhere, too."

The elevator dinged and the doors opened to a quiet newsroom floor. Only a few people were milling about, probably polishing some last minute articles for the weekend edition. The size of the room was much more impressive than the basement as it took up the whole floor and was wide open. The layout had the reporters' desks exposed and arranged in different sections. There were little cubicles of dark wood separating the desks, but the divisions were low enough to see the tops of heads. The elevator actually opened up to a higher platform that overlooked the newsroom, and one had to go down a small set of stairs to the right to gain access to the main floor.

Clark noticed all this and, somewhere in the back of his head, he was excited. But the forefront of his mind was too preoccupied with this Lois and Superman business. He knew there was no reason to be annoyed, but for some reason, he was all the same. Jimmy wasn't helping matters, either.

"Though that is rare," Jimmy continued as an afterthought, going down the stairs with Clark following him. "And he does manage to be there every time she needs to be saved. So what if her name has become nearly synonymous with his?" Jimmy stopped in the middle of the room and gestured to the two cubicles in front of him. "The Lane-Kent team cannot be beat."

Clark saw his nameplate on the left desk and Lois' on the right one. The state of their desks once again reflected their personalities just as their nightstands had. They each had a lamp attached to one side of the wooden partitions and a computer on the flat surface of the desk. Pictures and awards were posted on the walls of their cubicles with papers crowding their 'in' and 'out' boxes, but the similarities ended there.

Clark noticed his side was very neat, papers and notepads stacked in tidy piles. There were colored tabs sticking out of them, and Clark knew his future self had implemented the organization system he was only beginning to think about. Pens and pencils were gathered in an open black container placed next to the computer screen.

In contrast, all sorts of papers were scattered on Lois' desk – forms, notes, receipts, drafts, etc. Press passes were draped over her screen or hanging over the side of her desk, held in place by a couple of paper weights in the form of tiny monster trucks. A couple pencils and a pen were in a beige cup with the words 'World Famous' in bold letters on the side. An empty mug with '#1' sat next to it. Even though he couldn't figure it out, he knew there was a kind of organized chaos going on at her desk.

Clark almost forgot Jimmy was there until his friend patted his shoulder. "I'll see you Monday, C.K."

"Yeah," Clark replied, even though he wasn't sure if he actually would. "See you." He watched as Jimmy wandered further down the rows of desks until he reached the lone private office in the back of the room. When Jimmy bent down to slide the folder under the door, Clark looked away and back at the two cubicles in front of him.

After a moment, he went over to his side first. He sat down in the swivel chair tentatively, a bit surprised at it somehow being familiar, but at the same time, not. His desk was actually a corner desk. The flat surface in front of him extended past the corner all the way to his left, lining up against the two walls of his cubicle. Lois' side mirrored his. If there wasn't a barrier between their desks, he knew he would be facing the back of her computer just as she would his. The layout of their desks echoed elements of the original arrangement from the basement.

Clark touched the wooden division in front of him lightly, imagining Lois behind it. He smiled. It seemed right, somehow, to be her partner even in the future.

_I wonder…_ On a hunch, he opened the desk drawer to his left and his smile widened. Carefully, he took out the black frame and pressed his fingers against the glass. 'Lois' Rules of Reporting' looked back at him. The frame was a bit worn along the edges as if it had been taken out many times.

He glanced back in the drawer and spotted a folded Daily Planet newspaper pushed towards the back. Curious, he took it out and placed the frame back gently. He closed the drawer and unfolded the newspaper. The bolded words 'Superman Saves the Day Again' was written across the top and the byline was 'Reported by Clark Kent', but neither was what grabbed Clark's notice. It was the large colored picture plastered right in the middle of the article.

Superman's back was to the camera and all Clark could see was a red cape and the tips of red boots. Clark vaguely thought the cape was ridiculous, but most of his interest focused on the person in the hero's arms. While Superman's face wasn't shown, the picture had obviously been printed mostly for the woman's reaction to him saving her. The picture wasn't a close-up by any means, but it was still easy enough to make out the face.

Lois Lane's eyes were wide, but there was a delighted smile playing on the edges of her lips. Looking awestruck and amazed, her arms were wound tight around her rescuer's neck.

Clark narrowed his eyes and stood up, flipping the newspaper over. He ran his fingers through his hair and glanced over at Lois' desk. Something pinned on her cubicle wall caught his gaze, half of it obscured by another pinned item, a list of to-do things.

He walked around to her desk and took the article from her wall. There was another picture of what he assumed was supposed to be Superman, except this one was just a blip in the sky. The photographer obviously had a lot of trouble taking a picture so far below on the ground.

But this time it wasn't the photograph that caught his attention. It was the headline.

'I Spent the Night With Superman'. Reported by Lois Lane.

Clark decided he didn't like this Superman character one bit.


	4. Suspicion

**Free Fall  
**Author: Krys Yuy  
Summary: Clark isn't willing to risk his heart again. But when Fate gives him a glimpse into his future, the only question is – how hard will he fall?  
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Lois, Chloe/Bart, Oliver/Dinah, Justice League  
Warning: Spoilers up to _Hex_.  
Rating: PG-13/T  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes only.  
Author's Notes: I know I promised more Lois, but unfortunately, that didn't come to be. I'm so sorry! Hopefully, the appearance of two new characters appeases you somewhat. I know it doesn't make up for it, but I can tell you that Lois will definitely, definitely be in a majority of the next chapter (I already have a definite outline). Please note that there are now spoilers up to _**Hex**_.  
Thanks to everyone who took the time to review! (Meg, k3josai, CuteANDSexxxy17, Cath, audrey555, Monaivendork, Dreamscometrue16, f1ameseeker, reeven, NaomiBlue, RleFay, cloisharley, Mana-Reader, Louise, Kara, Aaron Leach, superrogue17, Evergreen, buckinut, huddytilidie, icesk8er93, Hakkyou Kuusou, JapaneseAnimeFreak16, daydreamer10101) – You guys are awesome! If you leave a review and you have a FanfictionNet account, I will respond to you. Once again, everyone else who's favorited and/or put this on story alert, please tell me what you think! I'd love to get your feedback as well. I hope you guys enjoy this update. Now, please read, review and enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 4: Suspicion

Clark almost crumpled the article in his hands before he caught himself. What was he getting so worked up about? So, Lois spent the night with Superman. That didn't mean anything. At least, not what initially crossed his mind. He felt immature for even thinking it.

He nodded to himself, stormy thoughts calming. Of course not. Lois wasn't like that. She wouldn't broadcast her personal life to the world. The headline was a way to sell papers. Like rule #7 said…

_Put all the good stuff at the beginning._

And to the general public, the mere implication of someone spending the night with a hero was good stuff. Not what he would consider 'good stuff' personally, but he wasn't the one the Daily Planet was selling papers to.

As for Superman, Clark couldn't shake off the feelings of irritation. He wasn't one to judge someone before he got to know them. But this new hero – new to him, anyway – had come along and apparently made the Red-Blue Blur inconsequential. What had happened in the past six years?

He couldn't imagine giving up helping people. Not when he had finally accepted his powers. Not when he knew he could do good in the world. Make a difference. Save those in need.

_It just doesn't make sense._

Who had he become? What had happened to Clark Kent?

He closed his eyes. The bleakness he had kept at bay the moment he realized his situation came flooding into him. He sat down in Lois' chair and leaned forward, letting his elbows rest on the desk, his right hand still holding onto Lois' article about Superman.

He had to focus on his own situation. Superman had nothing to do with him. He didn't have time to investigate a hero. He had to find a way back home. He had to _fix_ things. There was no way he was done helping people. Maybe that was why he had been sent to the future in the first place. To become aware of what happened and to correct a mistake.

His pocket started to vibrate in the middle of his brooding. Shaking his head as if that would rid him of his depressing thoughts, he took out his cell and flipped the cover open to read a new text message.

**Call me when you get this. You're not being funny, Smallville.**

He winced. Lois was mad.

Well, better to get it over with. Clark found Lois in the 'Most Recent Calls' section, and dialed her number. She picked up in the middle of the first ring.

"Where are you?" she asked, her voice almost drowned out by the merrymaking going on in the background.

Clark quickly stuck the Superman article back on the wall where he found it and fixed it so the list of to-do things again covered part of it. "I'm on my way," he replied, walking back over to his desk. He used his x-ray vision on his drawers to locate the bridal shower invitation in the middle compartment.

"You were supposed to be here over more than an hour ago," she said, irritation coloring her tone.

Clark opened the invitation to scan the time and place. _6:00PM_. _Ace of Clubs_. He dropped it back on his desk and jogged over to the stairs rather than the elevator. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he slipped into the stairwell and then supersped all the way down to the lobby before crossing the street to the Metropolis Satellite Center. He continued on inside and sped quickly to the top penthouse floor where the nightclub was located. He paused behind the door of the stairs and then, using his x-ray vision to make sure nobody was on the other side, stepped out.

Clark straightened his jacket and dusted off the rest of his clothes. "I'm here now," he said, walking through the entrance of the Ace of Clubs. He noted the poster announcing the bridal shower placed outside the doors.

It had only taken seconds between Lois' comment and his arrival. He scanned the crowd, recognizing a few faces while also spotting members of the Justice League. No one had seen him yet though, as they were pre-occupied either on the dance floor or with other people. He heard the distinct click of the line going dead and looked to the left to see Lois coming up to him, all smiles.

Clark steeled himself, already recognizing the ire beneath her sweet façade. "Lois," he began.

She put her cell in her jeans pocket and cut him off. "There you are," she said.

Clark chanced a look into her eyes, and was surprised by the relief that flashed through them before she closed herself off. He felt a surge of disappointment, but realized this was the Lois he was used to. He was tugged in the direction of the bar as she slipped her arm through his.

"We're going to talk about this later. But not now," she said very quietly. "Right now, we're going to smile and play nice with the guests because this is for Chloe and the Casanova she calls her fiancée. I will not make a scene like I did last time. No drunken speeches, and definitely no fighting with my significant other."

Lois smiled again, squeezed his arm harder than necessary, and went back into the crowd, leaving him alone. Clark felt as if a whirlwind had just picked him up and deposited him by the bar. With only a few short sentences, Lois managed to both chastise him and make him feel guilty. He declined any kind of drink when the bartender approached him, choosing instead to lean against the bar counter and watch Lois roam around the room, mingling and socializing.

She wore the same outfit from that morning – a light blue long-sleeved v-neck T-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. Glancing around, he saw everyone had actually come dressed rather casually except for a few who seemed almost semi-formal. Clark guessed that the casual aspect of the party was because of Bart, even though the Ace of Clubs was usually more dressy.

He watched as Lois looked over at him from the middle of the room. She had grabbed a glass of champagne and was holding it close to her chest. She had on a small frown and Clark felt another dose of remorse. He wasn't exactly sure what he was in the doghouse for, but it had to be more than just being late. The dash of relief in her eyes when she had seen him spoke volumes. She had been worried about him. Were he and Lois one of those couples that constantly checked in with each other?

Clark immediately dismissed the thought. Lois wasn't the type of woman who had to know where her significant other was twenty-four seven. And neither was he that type of man. Especially since they were married. Marriage was an important commitment, perhaps even the most important kind a person could make in his or her lifetime. His parents had taught him that. Trust and love were foundations for a successful marriage.

_Trust and love_.

Clark looked back at Lois with fresh eyes just as she casually glanced over at him again. Their gazes locked and Clark drew in a sharp breath. The most curious look took over her face then, but he didn't even notice. His mind was already reeling from his new train of thought. He had to turn away and face the bar.

It hadn't seemed real to him, this future relationship he shared with Lois. Frankly, it had all seemed like a dream, a feeling that persisted even after Bart revealed Lois was his wife. He had been so busy taking in his new surroundings that he had never stopped to think what marriage to Lois implied.

_Trust and love_.

And Clark knew, with every fiber of his being, that he would not have married Lois without either.

_**Trust.**_

He turned slightly to glance at Lois again. She was in deep conversation with someone, but Clark found he couldn't look away.

She _knew_.

She had to know. The more he thought about it, the more Clark wanted to hit himself for his ignorance. He wouldn't have married someone with his secret dangling over their heads. Lois certainly wouldn't have committed herself to him if she thought he was hiding something. She might have started a relationship, yes, but marriage was a whole other ballgame entirely.

Trust was important. Essential.

She knew his secret. And nothing horrible seemed to have happened to her. Actually, aside from the fact that she was currently mad at him, she seemed rather happy to be around him. Very happy and very content, if his memory from that morning was correct.

"_Six years later and you're still so lovesick."_

"_Married nearly three years and still going strong."_

"_The Lane-Kent team cannot be beat."_

The spark he hadn't acknowledged earlier that day burned brighter, and he recognized it for what it was. But could he… could he really dare to hope?

A longing so deep gripped his heart and he breathed in shakily.

"Hey, stranger," an unfamiliar voice said from behind him.

Startled, Clark tried to compose himself before turning around. A beautiful woman with exotic features and a small smile stood in front of him. Her long wavy black hair reached past her shoulders. She wore a wrap-around skirt made of black silk and a burgundy blouse. The tops of her black-heeled boots disappeared beneath her skirt, so he didn't know how high they actually went.

She looked at him expectantly, and Clark realized he was supposed to know her. He hoped his smile was convincing. He didn't know what to say, and went for a neutral greeting. "Hello."

Her light-green eyes seemed almost gray under the light. "Someone looks like they need a wish," she commented in a tone of voice that suggested an inside joke. One that he didn't get, but the expression on her face said she believed he would.

He pretended to chuckle, and hid a wince, wondering if it sounded as false to her as it did to him. "Umm, no, not a wish per se," he replied. _More like a time machine._

She raised one delicate eyebrow, but said nothing else on the subject. Instead, she commented, "We missed you at Oliver's."

Alarm bells went off in his head. She had to be talking about the League. There was something more to her than met the eye, and Clark was understandably wary. However, he didn't want to take a chance that she was referring to something else entirely. "I'm sorry. Something came up," he replied, not exactly lying. He had gone off to save people, after all.

"I understand." The stranger smiled again, but looked around discreetly before leaning forward as if to divulge a secret. "I do have to warn you that Oliver doesn't feel the same. Neither does –"

"Running off to warn him, darling? I should have known," a deep voice interrupted.

A man in a dark business suit came up behind the woman. His suit was black and his button-up shirt was a dark blue. He also wore a dark grey vest underneath the jacket. His brown hair was slicked back just so, complimenting his handsome features. In fact, it looked like he came straight out of a GQ magazine.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and regarded Clark with intense blue eyes. "Clark," he greeted. His tone sounded genial and carefree, but Clark recognized the steel buried beneath.

So Clark only nodded wordlessly, afraid to give himself away so soon. Something told him he had to be particularly careful in front of these strangers. Especially if they were part of the League, like his gut told him. The woman had an air of mystique surrounding her, while the man… He exuded confidence and an easygoing attitude, but Clark's instincts said there was something inherently dangerous about him.

"Zee," the man chastised softly, leaning in next to her ear. "You should have let us talk to him first."

'Zee' glanced back at the stranger, and Clark felt like he was witnessing some kind of silent communication. Finally, she spoke and her voice brooked no room for argument. "I didn't think it would be fair for you to blindside him."

Clark was beginning to feel distinctly more and more uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," he interrupted the couple. "Should I go?"

"No, don't," she said, raising a hand. "Bruce was just going to get Oliver."

Bruce's hold tightened on her waist. "Zatanna," he whispered, his tone suddenly a lot less accommodating.

She, however, didn't seem the least bit intimidated. "Bruce," she said, mirroring his attitude. "I'm going to talk to Clark now before you and Oliver jump to conclusions."

"I don't jump to conclusions," he replied roughly.

"No?" Zatanna slipped from his grasp and went over to Clark's side, placing a hand on his arm.

Clark wasn't exactly sure what to make of anything going on around him, especially when the storm clouds gathering around Bruce's head seemed to disappear. He smiled warmly, looking for all the world like an amiable party guest.

"As you wish, darling," he said, reaching out to grab her right hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it.

Her smile was serene. "Thank you."

Bruce gave Clark another penetrating stare before he released Zatanna's hand and walked away. He seemed to melt into the crowd naturally and Clark wondered why it felt like he had escaped a session with the firing squad.

_For now,_ he thought as he looked at Zatanna's face. Her calm gaze had become somewhat troubled. "Are you all right?"

All traces of unease slipped from her countenance and her hand fell away from his arm. "I'm fine," she replied, a small smile lighting her features. "Though I do envision an argument in my near future." She sobered a bit. "Clark, they're not happy that you missed the project meeting today. Combined with the odd eccentricities you exhibited…"

"Your source on this being…?" he asked smoothly, fighting inwardly to calm the rising state of apprehension.

"The groom himself, actually," she replied, gesturing to the other side of the room where Chloe and Bart were dancing. They seemed to be off in their own little world, and despite his predicament, Clark couldn't help but smile when Chloe laughed, carefree and lighter than he had ever seen her.

"Bart wouldn't have said anything," Clark said after a moment, knowing it to be true. Bart had dismissed his behavior as him having an 'off day' and nothing more.

"He only relayed the events upon demand," Zatanna admitted. "Oliver is more cautious than he is."

"I didn't do anything wrong," he pointed out. He began to search the crowd for his billionaire friend and frowned slightly when he saw him talking to Bruce on the terrace.

Zatanna started to say something else, but Clark turned his head slightly and focused his hearing on the two men outside.

"The mission in the Philippines is a go with or without Big Blue," Oliver stated in a low voice.

_Big Blue?_ Clark didn't know why, but he had the distinct impression Oliver was talking about him. _I think I prefer Boy Scout._

"Those experiment facilities would be easier to take down with him," Bruce pointed out matter-of-factly, though his voice was also very quiet.

"Yes, well, we're in a bit of a time crunch," Oliver said, sounding frustrated. "I won't let months of digging and researching go to waste because we _might_ be compromised."

"We won't," Bruce agreed calmly. "Someone else will have to take down the main power grid."

"Then there's travel time," Oliver commented, annoyance still heavily apparent. Several seconds passed, and with his next words, he seemed to have calmed down. "So, what do you think?"

Bruce's response was gruff. "He's not himself."

"So you're in agreement with me?" Oliver asked.

"Don't get used to it," he replied dryly.

Oliver returned in kind. "I wouldn't dream of it." He paused. "So we try to trip him up, then?"

"Agreed. Though Zatanna ruined the element of surprise."

"Zee always goes her own way," Oliver replied. "You know that better than anyone."

Instead of replying to his statement, Bruce said, "Ask him things Clark should know. It's the fastest and easiest way."

"Clark never was a good liar."

Clark's frown deepened, but he was roused from the men's conversation by a light tap to the shoulder. He looked up to find Zatanna staring back at him, puzzled. Her gaze turned from him to Oliver and Bruce as they came back inside the club. A knowing light entered her expression.

"They won't be satisfied unless you give them as honest an answer as possible," Zatanna commented.

"You didn't have to warn me," Clark replied quietly. It felt like he should be at ease around her, but something about her also held him back.

"You're my friend, Clark," she said warmly. "And I believe there is something else going on than what they think."

"Oh?" He tried to sound nonchalant, but obviously failed when her smile grew wider.

"All you heroes," she said, softly laughing, "really do need to work on your sleight of hand."

Clark flushed and tugged at the collar of his shirt when he saw how close Oliver and Bruce were getting. "Thanks for the warning," he murmured.

"Try not to let them intimidate you," she replied, turning her own eyes on the pair of men.

"They don't," Clark said, and it was true. He was anxious he would be found out, but he didn't feel the least bit threatened by the seemingly powerful duo. He would face them as they pleased.

"Clark. Hey," Oliver greeted. He wore the same outfit from earlier in the day, but his eyes lacked the same welcome. "Do you mind if we talked? Outside?"

"Not at all," he answered. Clark was surprised at how steady his voice was. He walked ahead of them, knowing they would follow.

As he headed for the terrace, he spotted Lois out of the corner of his eye. She was talking to some co-workers he recognized from the Planet when he saw her glance back at the bar. Her brow turned quizzical as her gaze began to sweep around the room. He ducked out onto the terrace before she could spot him, not wanting her to come after him now. He placed himself just out of view from the inside of the club behind a group of potted plants.

Clark felt them at his back and turned around slowly, knowing he couldn't show any sign of weakness. Not in front of Oliver, and especially not in front of Bruce. Clark didn't know him, but there was something about the man that put him on edge. Oliver and Bruce stood a few feet away with Zatanna behind them. She leaned against the edge of the balcony as they began to talk.

"What's this about, Oliver?" he asked, wondering exactly what they suspected.

"Clark," Oliver began, face serious. "Why didn't you come to the meeting today?"

"I couldn't ignore a cry for help," Clark replied truthfully. Even if he had known what the meeting was about, there was no way he could go when someone needed saving.

"No one's begrudging you for that," Oliver replied, looking somewhat insulted at the suggestion. "But there's no reason you couldn't come to headquarters after."

Besides the fact that he didn't know where the headquarters was? Clark shook his head. "I'm sorry about missing the meeting," he said sincerely. Since it was League business, Clark knew it must have been important. "But I don't know what else there is to say."

"Clark, what was our meeting supposed to be about?" Oliver asked, crossing his arms.

"The experiment facilities in the Philippines," he responded almost immediately. He kept his face straight, but his lips nearly twitched when he saw Zatanna smile at his answer. She knew there was something going on, but she wasn't about to tell either of the men questioning him. For that, he was grateful.

Clark continued before Oliver could ask another question. "I know we're under a time constraint, but I also know you would relay whatever I need to know," he said. "I can still take care of the power grid."

Clark knew he had thrown Oliver for a loop. The blonde billionaire hadn't expected him to know anything at all. He wasn't out of the woods yet, though. Bruce remained unmoved and Clark felt like he was being studied carefully.

Oliver recovered quickly. "Explain why you forgot where the tux shop was," he said, his tone growing close to demanding.

"That was an oversight on my part," Clark replied, lying through his teeth. His expression turned blank. "I've been having trouble with the leads I'm pursuing on my current story."

"That I could maybe believe… if not for the glasses, too," Oliver replied, eyes narrowing.

The glasses, again! Clark resisted the urge to groan, and instead, pushed said glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I really have no idea where you're going with this."

"Bart told us everything," Oliver said, taking a step closer, but Clark didn't move. "How you 'lost' the directions and couldn't remember the name of the tux shop…"

Clark would have winced if the men across from him weren't watching so closely. Had he really said that to Bart? No wonder Oliver was suspicious.

"How you 'forgot' your glasses… And then, missing a meeting _you_ coordinated in the first place."

Now _that_ he definitely hadn't known. Somehow, Clark knew this had all been inevitable. "Ollie, what are you saying?"

Oliver stared at him hard. "You don't forget," he said firmly. "I've known you for a long time, and despite all the craziness we get into daily, you never forget what matters." He nodded. "Those glasses shield your identity. They keep your loved ones safe. Clark Kent would never forget to wear them."

Were the glasses magical or something? Clark stood his ground, still unwilling to admit to anything. "I am Clark Kent," he stated with such authority that Oliver almost seemed to waver.

"Let me clarify something," Bruce interrupted smoothly, speaking for the first time since they had come out onto the terrace.

Clark couldn't help but tense ever so slightly. He knew Bruce had seen it too when a smirk formed on the man's lips.

"You say you were off saving people the entire day." Bruce regarded him with a calculating gaze. "That's why you couldn't make it to the meeting."

"Yes."

"Then tell me, Clark…" Piercing blue eyes challenged him, daring him to answer.

"Why were there no sightings of Superman?"


	5. Confession

**Free Fall**  
Author: Krys Yuy  
Summary: Clark isn't willing to risk his heart again. But when Fate gives him a glimpse into his future, the only question is – how hard will he fall?  
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Lois, Chloe/Bart, Oliver/Dinah, Bruce/Zatanna, Justice League  
Warning: Spoilers up to _Hex_.  
Rating: PG-13/T  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes only.  
Author's Notes: As promised, lots and lots of Lois. It seems fitting, somehow, that this is also my longest chapter for this story to date. More Lois also means more Clois (at least in this part), so I hope you all enjoy. Please tell me what you think about Lois – I was so nervous writing her that I'm sure there's something that can be improved upon. I also have a challenge for the readers. I count seven _Smallville_ episode references in this chapter. See if you can name them! (One is very obvious as it's not really a reference so much as a passage dedicated to it. XP And two others are from the same episode.) Now, I'm off to write for my capstone course in Creative Writing (is it sad that I'd rather be writing this fanfic?)!  
Thanks to everyone who took the time to review! (GreatStarOcean, artiist1284, Dreamscometrue16, reeven, Hakkyou Kuusou, CuteANDSexxxy17, JeMS7, Evergreen, EllaBlue, cloisharley, f1ameseeker, Loges, Joyce, superlc529, buckinut, Aaron Leach, Lavenderlily12, ColleenJoy, PhoenixPhreak, Hermione2be, Monaivendork, daydreamer10101, CamFan4Ever, Seersha, icesk8er93, 1eclecticreader, WhoKnows909, Lordofthedrums93, huddytilidie, YouCan'tFightDestiny, LaneKentFan) – I really appreciate you taking the time to leave me a comment. If you leave a review and you have a FanfictionNet account, I will respond to you. Once again, everyone else who hasn't commented, but who has favorited and/or put this on story alert, please tell me what you think! I'd love to get your feedback as well.  
Anyways, I sincerely hope you guys like this update. Please read, review and enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 5: Confession

_Wait._ Clark blinked. _**What?**_

He couldn't have possibly heard that right. But the serious expressions on his companions' faces said otherwise. They had no reason to joke. Especially Bruce. The dark haired man seemed eerily calm, his gaze cool and self-controlled as he waited for an answer.

Clark knew the longer he stayed silent, the more trouble he was in, but words couldn't seem to form in his mouth. He wondered if he looked as gobsmacked as he felt. His mind tried to process the dubious conclusion it had come to after Bruce's revealing words.

_I'm… Superman? _

Suddenly, Big Blue didn't sound all that horrible.

Clark shook his head and closed his mouth – had that been open the entire time? _Not good._ "I –"

Zatanna interrupted him with a small giggle. Clark's eyebrows furrowed together as the two other men turned to their companion.

Oliver frowned. "Have something you care to share, Zee?" he asked, irritated.

"Oh." She placed her fingers over her mouth with a somewhat sheepish shrug. "No, not really." Her light-green gaze locked with Clark's and her mouth twitched.

"Zatanna, either contribute to the questioning or stay quiet," Bruce said. His voice was somehow able to be both monotone and reprimanding at the same time. His face didn't show it, but he was also clearly not happy about the conversation being interrupted.

Immediately, her smile died. However, she didn't look hurt. She looked equally irritated. "I'll do as I please," she said, her tone deceptively subdued.

Oliver sighed and turned back to Clark, ignoring the couple practically glaring at each other. "You were saying?"

Clark didn't know how he could possibly answer. Sorry, he forgot where his costume was? Oh, he didn't know he had an affinity for capes? Out of all the things either man could say, Superman was the last thing he expected.

"I-I'm sorry," he finally said. Any excuse he made in his head was far from solid, and admittedly, sounded rather lame. He went for the truth. "I don't know what to say."

Oliver stared at him for a long moment. Then he stated, "You're not Clark."

A spike of dread struck him and Clark wondered if they would believe his story. He had already lied to them by pretending to be his future self. Would they really believe that he had time traveled? He raised his hands in a placating motion, prepared to defend himself.

"What's going on?"

Everyone turned to find Lois leaning against the frame of the now open terrace door. One eyebrow was raised and her lips were pursed together. Clark knew she was trying to piece together the situation with what information she could gather just by studying them in that moment. She pushed away from the door and strode over until she was standing closest to Clark.

"I can't be interrupting a meeting of the Billionaire Boys' Club. Unless you're now inducting farmer-slash-reporters." She tilted her head in Clark's direction. "Or a windfall of money came Smallville's way."

She smiled sweetly at him. "Keeping any secrets I should know about?"

Clark swallowed the lump in his throat. "Lois –"

"Lois, step back," Bruce ordered, walking forward, obviously prepared to draw her to their side.

She stepped away from him, and as a result, came even closer to Clark. "Excuse me?" she demanded.

"Clark's…" Oliver was obviously struggling with whether or not they should inform Lois of their suspicions. "… not himself."

"Really." She gave Clark an once-over before shaking her head. "He looks the same to me."

"Trust us," Oliver retorted, his muscles tense. "Lois, he's not who you think he is."

From the way she stiffened, Clark knew she was beginning to take the conversation seriously. She turned to the right so she was facing the others straight on. Clark stared at her back, suspecting it wasn't a coincidence that she placed herself between him and the others. His heart warmed and he wanted to grin. Instead, he stayed where he was and watched Lois interact with the two powerful men.

"What do you mean?" she asked, sounding calm. Clark saw through it, and because of the blonde's wince, Clark knew Oliver did too.

"Well, we're not exactly sure –" Oliver began, trying to find the right words.

"We have our suspicions," Bruce interrupted with a note of finality.

Lois, however, wasn't having any of that. "And I'm just supposed to believe you?" She stepped back a few paces until her back met Clark's front.

Clark reached out to steady her against him automatically. He still couldn't find it in him to say anything, though, when the glower from Oliver darkened and it seemed like storm clouds were once again gathering around Bruce's temple.

"Just give us a few more minutes. We need to talk to him," Oliver said, trying for a more amicable tone.

"Interrogate him, you mean?" Lois shot back. Her head turned from Oliver to Bruce and she didn't like what she saw, if her posture stiffening further under his hands said anything. "You know what? I think Clark and I are going to go back inside –"

Oliver protested immediately. "Lois!"

"– so you both have to put this, whatever this is –" She gestured with her hands in a vague circular motion. "– on pause." She swiftly turned towards the exit, hit Clark in the face with her ponytail, and grabbed his hand all in one smooth move.

Dumbfounded, he could only follow her as she dragged him along. He chanced a look back at Oliver and Bruce. They were both frowning, but evidently didn't want to make a scene since neither man ran after them. Zatanna leaned against the edge of the railing, a pleased smile playing across her mouth. She nodded at him subtly and Clark smiled a little before turning back to see where Lois was leading him.

"Umm, thank you," he said, leaning down so she could hear him above the rock music pulsing through the club.

Lois stopped by the gift table where presents were piled up and winked back at him from over her shoulder. "And I didn't even need stilettos this time," she said with a laugh.

_Huh?_ Clark straightened and wondered what on earth shoes had to do with how she handled Oliver and Bruce. He shook his head. Either way, he was glad she was on his side.

"But you know, this just means you're going to talk to me now," Lois continued, beginning to move again.

Clark felt a bout of apprehension about ten times worse than when he had been on the balcony. He couldn't say anything as she started to cross the room, his hand still tucked in hers. The familiarity of her touch comforted more than he could admit to himself though.

The club atmosphere turned more romantic as slow music began to drift through the speakers. Lois abruptly turned to look at him, squeezing his hand. "Dance with me," she said, eyes twinkling.

Her statement didn't register at first as he was momentarily charmed by her uncharacteristic enthusiasm for dancing. She led him down the steps and onto the dance floor before he could think about it. Then she dragged him into the midst of twirling couples.

"Lois!" Suddenly, Clark felt an entirely different type of panic. "This isn't a good idea."

Something flashed through her gaze before a small grin lit her lips. "Please, Smallville. A little light ballroom won't kill you." Lois tugged him towards her, taking his hands and placing them on her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck and began to sway. "Nothing to it."

Clark flexed his hands – had she always fit so perfectly? – and stared into her eyes. Hazel sparkled back. Slowly he danced, trying not to trip as the music washed over him, never breaking his link with the woman in his arms. He began to lose himself in hazel and subconsciously moved closer.

Another day came back to him – one with similar soft, relaxing music playing in the background. He remembered dancing close, close enough that he could smell her fruity shampoo, but not enough to feel her against him. There was the whisper of her hair against his cheek as he glanced down for another glimpse of how beautiful she looked. Her fingers were warm in his, and his right hand was comfortable on the curve of her hip. He kept looking at her and then looking away, almost unsure she was really in his arms.

Someone had pushed her against him and he caught her, albeit a little awkwardly. He recalled turning to look, but the culprit was faceless in his memory. All that mattered was the woman standing in front of him, her left hand now loosely grasped in his right. He remembered looking down at their entwined hands and then back at her face.

Lois had gazed at him with a slight tilt of her head, like she was trying to see through him. Her eyes scrunched up faintly and she looked as if she had a question in mind. However, a second later, instead of talking, her free hand touched his chest timid and light, like she was afraid he would disappear.

His heart froze. All he could do was stare at her, mesmerized, but unable to move. He had gazed from her eyes to her lips and back, unexpectedly seeing a myriad of possibilities for the future. Possibilities he never even dreamed of considering.

Hesitation and hope warred in her expression as she did the same, her gaze flickering from his eyes to his lips. There had been an enchanting vulnerability about her in that moment, and he knew there had to be a hint of a smile on his mouth.

_Go ahead,_ his mind had whispered to her then. _You can trust me with your heart._

He and Lois must have had a moment of telepathy because she moved closer at that exact second. No more indecision. An excited thrill ran through him and he could move again. He leaned in slowly, fully prepared to meet her halfway, knowing everything was about to change. For the better, something told him.

However, an excited voice had stopped him, breaking the spell. He remembered stepping back and that perfect clarity falling away from him. He couldn't recall what happened to Lois after that, and regret sank into the pit of his stomach.

Why had he stopped again? Staring at her now under the shimmering club lights, caught in another moment in time, he couldn't remember why.

But nothing was stopping him now.

That thought spun around his head as he looked down at her lips, coated a light red. Temptation skirted his consciousness. She wasn't wearing a dress of burnt orange and her hair wasn't falling in soft curls, but she looked as beautiful as he had ever seen her.

He leaned in, ensnared in what seemed like another enchantment. She leaned towards him as well, and his hands tightened on her waist. But instead of meeting him halfway, her head turned slightly so they were cheek to cheek, her lips pressed close to his ear.

"We _definitely_ need to talk."

And just like that, the spell was broken again.

Clark pulled back, ignoring the obvious disappointment coursing through him, and looked down to find Lois with the most serious expression on her face. He nodded, mentally preparing himself. "Now?" he asked, even though he was pretty sure what her answer would be.

"Now." She gestured up with her head. "Somewhere else though."

"But –" Clark looked around and found the engaged couple talking and laughing to each other in a private corner. They looked like they needed company, didn't they? "I still haven't said hi to Chloe or Bart –"

She looked at the corner where he spotted the couple. "They're off in their own world of engaged-soon-to-be-married bliss," she commented with a wave of her hand. "Besides, do you really think you're going to weasel out of this?" Lois rolled her eyes. "Please."

He sighed. She was right, of course. "Lead the way, Lois." Better to go with the flow and all that, or in Lois' case, a tsunami.

She tilted her head again, like she was scrutinizing him and he puzzled over what he could have possibly said. Her mouth screwed up to one side and her eyes narrowed.

"What?" he asked.

Her fingers were trailing up and down the back of his neck and he shivered. "Say my name," she said.

It was his turn to look at her strangely. His eyebrows scrunched together in bafflement. Despite that, he complied. "Lois."

Her fingers stilled. "Hmm…" Her hands fell away from his neck.

Clark felt bereft as he followed suit, dropping his hold on her waist. "Lois…" he repeated, confused but wanting her to talk to him.

"Come on, Smallville." She grabbed his right hand in her left one. "Chop, chop."

She led him through the dancing couples and then around the outskirts of the room. Lois nodded and smiled at the guests but didn't linger long enough to actually talk. Before he knew it, she had maneuvered them out into the hallway. But instead of going to the elevators, she went through the exit to the stairs and headed up.

Seconds later, they were on the rooftop of the Metropolis Satellite Center. A light wind ruffled their hair, but other than that, the night was hushed. He and Lois were completely alone.

Lois dropped his hand and walked a few feet away from him to look out over the Metropolis skyline. Millions of tiny lights glittered back at her, bathing her in a soft, muted glow. "It's not the Planet, but it'll do," she commented, shrugging.

Clark wasn't sure what to expect, so he stood still and waited for her to make her move. Across the street, the Daily Planet globe spun slowly and Clark wondered vaguely if it ever stopped.

Lois took a deep breath and turned around to face him. "So…"

Her expression was unreadable and Clark frowned. "So?" he echoed.

"What are you, a parrot?" Lois shook her head and crossed her arms. "Clark," she said seriously. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

_The feel of her falling into his arms. Wide, amazed eyes. A breath of disbelief. _

"_Guess I should stop calling you Smallville."_

"I know," he replied quietly.

"Then, please…" Her voice trembled a tiny bit before righting itself, and Clark knew he was one of only a handful of people who could have detected it. "Talk to me."

His gaze dropped away from her face. He couldn't think when her hazel eyes were trained on him. What harm would it do, really, to tell her? He obviously couldn't navigate the future on his own without help. It felt like reality kept twisting everything around him just when he thought he had a handle on it. The world was unsteady beneath his feet, but having Lois near somehow balanced him.

A desire to tell her outweighed any misgivings he initially had about waking up to a whole new world.

Lois smiled softly, but said nothing, trusting him.

Clark breathed in deeply and exhaled. He took a figurative step towards the imaginary ledge that existed only in his mind. "I'm Clark."

Her smile turned puzzled and she raised one questioning eyebrow.

"I mean, um, I'm _Clark_." Okay, this already wasn't going how he imagined it would. "Just not your Clark. I'm from the past." He paused. "I think."

Several minutes passed as Lois stared at him. Her eyes weren't wide with shock or narrowed with suspicion. She just… _looked_ at him. Finally, when he thought he would have to snap her out of her trance, she asked, a bit incredulous, "… you _think_?"

Well, that was better than the yelling he imagined. If he was telling her, then he might as well go all out. "There might be a tiny chance I'm from an alternate universe," he added. "But I'm pretty sure I'm from the past."

Lois' brow furrowed as she studied him. "So, you think you're from the past?" she asked slowly. She began to move, circling him and looking him up and down. "You don't look younger."

"I'm 99.9% sure I'm from the past," Clark corrected, trying not to tense as he felt Lois' gaze roam over his back. "I somehow made it into your Clark's body."

Lois paused to stand by his left, closer to the edge of the roof than to him. "How do you know you didn't just lose your memories?" she asked quietly.

"I'd remember," he stated almost inaudibly. He looked into her face, secretly thrilled to see her eyes had opened up to him again. _There's no way I could forget you._

He wondered if she was telepathic because a shy, yet pleased smile formed on her lips. "Well, despite your charm, sweet-talker, I'd have to say this wouldn't be the first time," she replied. She put her hands in her back jean pockets.

"I've lost my memories before?" he asked, though not surprised. He vaguely recalled the day he lost when he tried to catch a thief who had robbed the Talon.

"A lot's happened." Lois shrugged, looking for all the world like it was an everyday occurrence to get a visit from a past version of her husband.

Clark eyed her curiously. "I have to say, Lois… You're taking this rather well."

"You don't know Lois Lane-Kent." She smiled brightly and tossed her ponytail, obviously teasing, but the meaning of her words sunk in. She visibly sobered and Clark followed suit, frowning.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I wish I could fix this. I just don't know how."

She walked the few steps it took to stand directly in front of him. "We'll get through this," she said with the confidence of a woman who had every faith in herself and the man she loved. She took her hands out of her pockets and reached up to cup his cheek. "We always do."

Clark inhaled sharply. "Lois…" he said softly, his next words causing a strange pain in his chest. "I'm not your husband."

She paused, her eyes locked on his. "You're still Clark Kent," she said simply, though her hand fell away from his cheek all the same.

This Lois caught him off guard more than he cared to admit. "Not to make you suspicious of me, but I could very well be a danger to you. I could be lying. You shouldn't trust so easily," he said softly. "Just because I have his face…"

Instead of getting angry like he expected her to, she laughed. "That's not why I trust you," she said, shaking her head.

"Then why are you so willing to believe me?" he asked, honestly curious.

Her laughter calmed somewhat. "I knew something was different," she began. Her head tilted as she examined his face, like she was trying to drink him in. "This morning, I thought something was a little off, but I passed it off as one of your _many_ endearing quirks." She smiled sassily and Clark rolled his eyes, but he could still feel his cheeks flush. "But let's get to your three strikes first, shall we?"

She continued on, stepping back and Clark breathed a little easier. Once again, he was able to think when she wasn't so close to him. He listened to her story carefully, committing everything she said to memory.

"Strike one was when you didn't call me after the tux shop. You went AWOL and you didn't tell the League where you went. But I just assumed you were off saving the day like you do."

It was the first time she mentioned anything about the superhero aspect of his life. Clark felt a streak of pleasure and happiness wrapped in one at the proud smile gracing Lois' lips. Suddenly, he wanted to ask about Superman, but she kept talking and he didn't want to interrupt.

"The thing is... you didn't check in," she said. She looked up with intense greenish-brown eyes. "You _always_ check in." The conviction in her voice was so strong that Clark finally discerned the reason for her anger when he first came into the Ace of Clubs. "When you're going to be late or you can't meet, you send a text or you call. I say you don't need to, but you do. You know I worry." She shook her head with a fond smile. "But the party started and then… nothing."

She started to pace in front of him, going from one end of the roof to the other. "I held out for an hour and seventeen minutes," she said. "Then I caved and texted you." While still walking, she raised two fingers.

"Strike two," she began. "… you love to dance with me." She didn't quite look at him when she said that, and Clark mused on whether or not she was as embarrassed to tell him as he was to hear it. "It's one of our favorite pastimes."

Clark couldn't imagine dancing becoming one of his favorite activities. The feel of her waist beneath his fingertips flashed through his mind. He looked down at the ground as Lois continued to speak. Okay, maybe he could see it. Maybe.

"And strike three…" She stopped and turned to face him again. She repeated her earlier order. "Say my name."

Clark still didn't know what that would prove, but acquiesced for a second time. "Lois."

Disappointment dashed through her eyes so fast that Clark thought he imagined it. "It was like that all day," she said, shaking her head.

Clark wondered how he could have possibly gotten her name wrong. "Huh?"

She smiled sadly. "You call me 'Lo'," she whispered.

He let that sink in. "Oh." Him bestowing a nickname on Lois sounded a little odd.

She must have read the expression on his face because she clarified. "I mean, you still call me Lois, of course. You're not as liberal with the nicknames like I am with 'Smallville'." She smiled when he did. "But you call me 'Lo' at least once a day…" She looked like she had something to add, but seemed to think better of it when she shook her head.

_Lo. _It sounded strange in his head at first, but when he looked at Lois, he could see it fitting seamlessly. When had he first started to use it?

"Three strikes and you're out," she said with a wry smile. She hugged her arms and looked down. "But I think I would have noticed sooner if…"

"If…?" he prompted, compelled to see into this complex relationship his future self shared with this Lois.

She exhaled slowly. "If you weren't Clark," she stated, looking up. "If you weren't you."

The certainty in her quiet statement made Clark believe her. He wondered how this Lois would have handled Bizarro.

"Only you could ever make me feel this way," she confessed softly. She was entwining her hands with his, and when had she gotten so close to him? Her fingertips grazed the back of his knuckles, sending tiny shivers through him. "And that's why I trust you."

She looked at his face as if she were searching for something. He swallowed, speculating on what she could possibly be looking for. Her eyes fell to his lips and abruptly it was like he couldn't breath.

If she heard his sharp intake of breath, she didn't say anything. She simply kept looking up at him. "It's the same…" she murmured.

He cleared his throat. It seemed like he was losing her to her thoughts again. "What is?" he asked.

She blinked, coming back to herself. "Nothing," she replied. He didn't believe her for a second, but before he could press her on it, she released his hands.

His fingers curled into fists at his side. He watched as she distanced herself again. "I guess it was pointless to keep it from you," he said in an attempt to change the subject.

Lois' eyes cleared of her heavier emotions and she seemed lighter as a grin graced her face. "Yeah, pretty much," she said, nodding. "And you honestly thought you could?"

"I woke up six years in the future," Clark replied in his defense. "I've kind of had a surreal day."

"Six years?" She stayed silent and a few seconds later, it was like a light went off in her head. "No wonder."

"What?"

"Nothing," she repeated innocently.

Clark knew that wasn't the case at all, but he let it go. It didn't seem to be a pressing matter anyway, and he wasn't sure if he could take any more revelations about his relationship with Lois.

"Thank you… Clark." Her face softened, truly sincere and touched, and it made him realize how appreciative she was of his honesty. "For telling me."

_Wet, teary eyes. A sad, resigned tone. Hurt plain for all to see. _

"_And when you hit your reset button, you're not gonna tell me your secret, are you?"_

"I don't deserve your thanks," he said in a low voice, closing his eyes.

A few seconds later, there was a gentle touch against his brow and a quick adjustment of his glasses. "Hey, man of mine," Lois said, her tone light and soothing. He opened his eyes when she placed a hand under his chin. "Chin up."

He smiled. It was like an involuntary reaction to her. "You're amazing," he murmured without realizing it.

The smile that lit her face in response was worth the state of confusion that currently was his heart. "I know," she said teasingly.

Another imaginary step towards that dangerous ledge.

Clark breathed in, then out, acutely aware of her touch. He opened his mouth to speak when the door to the roof banged open. Lois jumped, but Clark turned around swiftly in one move, pushing her behind him. He felt Lois place her chin on his shoulder, and he knew she was trying to get a look at the source of the interruption.

"Bruce! Ollie!" she exclaimed loudly, and Clark winced at her volume. Almost absentmindedly, she reached up to smooth his hair. "Sorry, handsome," she murmured.

Clark felt a blush creep up his neck.

The two billionaires did not look happy. Oliver was almost full-out scowling, while Bruce's face was nearly perfectly blank, if not for the slight downward tug of his mouth. Their combined stares would have been enough to send any normal man's knees quaking. Lois moved her chin off Clark's shoulder as she moved to stand beside him.

"Now, boys, I thought we agreed to put this on pause," Lois said, her tone light, but her eyes hinting at her displeasure. "This is a party for my little cousin and her fiancée. You should be downstairs enjoying it."

Oliver shook his head. "It's time for us to press play. How could you expect us to mingle when you're with this stranger?" He pointed to Clark, and Clark tried not to let it bother him.

"You could be in danger," Bruce added pragmatically, voice serious but lacking Oliver's urgency.

"Please." Lois scoffed and placed a hand on Clark's right bicep. "Being with Clark is the safest place to be."

Clark laid a hand over hers and straightened as he regarded the two men. "I'm not here to hurt anyone," he said.

If it was possible, Oliver tensed further. "So you acknowledge you're not Clark," he replied.

"No." He shook his head. "I am Clark. Just not the one you're used to."

"That's supposed to inspire trust how?" Oliver asked, frowning.

"Ollie, listen!" Lois exclaimed. "He's Clark!"

"Not our Clark," Oliver retorted, stepping forward. "He's been acting strange all day. He let an important League meeting go unattended."

Bruce stayed where he was, but kept his gaze focused on Clark. "He didn't know who Superman was," he added.

Lois' grip tightened on his bicep, though her face didn't react. "Add another bullet point to the list of things we need to talk about," she muttered under her breath, knowing full well he could hear her. To the two men, she merely said, "Let this go."

"Unlikely." Bruce crossed his arms. "Zatanna."

The black haired woman from earlier came out of the shadows, her lips stubbornly pursed. "I'm not doing this," she said.

Oliver looked back at her. "Zee, you already agreed."

"Only if he agrees as well!" She gestured in Clark's direction.

Lois clutched the hand he held over hers. "If he agrees to what?"

"Let her use her unique skills," Oliver said as gently as possible.

Lois' reaction was immediate. "No way. No." She shook her head and looked towards the other woman. "No offense against you, Zee, but you won't be performing any hocus pocus on my husband."

_Hocus pocus?_ Clark looked at Zatanna, once again feeling that prickle of _something_ along his skin. He had felt it before, not just with her. Three women flashed in his mind – strangers in everything but appearance. His eyes widened.

Zatanna tilted her head to the side and smiled.

He peered at her again as if he could see something new. "Magic," he murmured, now understanding his state of apprehension around her.

Lois angled herself in front of Clark. "Like I said, that's a no can do on the voodoo," she said, shaking her index finger. "Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars."

Oliver came forward slowly. "You can't be so sure about what he says to you, Lois."

"Ollie, listen to me," she said, trying to reason with him. "He's still Clark. He's just from the past."

Oliver paused, and looked to Clark for confirmation. Clark nodded. "Everything she said is true. I'm from the past."

"Or he could have a memory lapse," Lois added.

Clark didn't think it was a good idea to introduce multiple theories when he hadn't gained their trust yet. "No, I'm from the past," he corrected.

"Yeah, but –" Lois saw the look Clark was giving her and sighed. "Okay, okay. Look, he doesn't remember the past six years."

Nothing about Bruce's expression changed as he said, "I'm not inclined to believe him."

"He just has a memory lapse!" Lois retorted, and Clark slapped his forehead. She ignored him and continued, "Like that doesn't happen every day of the week for you superheroes."

"He could be lying," Oliver pointed out.

Lois' jaw set stubbornly. "Not to me."

Oliver grit his teeth, but seemed to understand that he needed another approach. He exhaled and tried for a more reasonable tone. "Lois, just let Zatanna work her magic. If he's telling the truth, nothing will happen," he said.

She shook her head. "When has 'no way' ever translated to 'maybe I'll change my mind so keep trying to talk me out of it'?"

Clark gripped her shoulders loosely and her tense muscles relaxed under his touch. "Nothing will happen?" he asked, directing the question at Zatanna.

She opened her mouth, but Bruce answered for her. "Nothing should." His icy blue eyes still held the same challenge from earlier.

Clark dropped his hands away from Lois. "Fine. Go ahead."

Lois spun around. "Clark! Don't let them walk all over you! You're supposed to be like steel, aren't you?" She reached up to grab his shoulders tightly. "You can prove yourself in other ways."

"I don't want there to be any doubt," he said. He was wary about witchcraft, rightfully so, but he felt like he could trust Zatanna.

Lois frowned deeply. "Aren't there huge warning signs flashing around the word 'magic' in your head right now?" She lowered her voice. "You're just as vulnerable as anyone else."

"I know," he replied. He placed a hand on her arm in an attempt to comfort her. "Lois, it's okay."

She looked into his eyes for a long while, and Clark almost fidgeted at the way she was trying to see into him. "You're just like him," she murmured.

Clark wasn't sure what to feel being compared to his future self.

Oliver cleared his throat. "Well?"

Clark gently pushed Lois away, or tried to. She clutched at the lapels of his black jacket with iron-willed determination. "Lois," Clark whispered quietly.

She closed her eyes and when he pushed again, she released his jacket. She took the few steps back until Oliver placed a hand on her shoulder. The blonde billionaire gently maneuvered her behind him, and Clark watched as her hazel eyes opened again to stare at him.

Lois turned to glare at the other dark haired man on the roof. "Why won't you believe me? He's Clark! I can feel it," she said heatedly.

"Feelings aren't proof," Bruce replied, blue eyes colder than Clark had seen in the short time he knew him.

Lois threw up her hands. "It's like talking to a constantly brooding wall!"

Clark's lips twitched, but he sobered quickly when Zatanna stepped forward.

"Are you sure?" she asked. Her face remained carefully blank.

He nodded. He looked away from her to lock eyes with Lois. She was worried for him and he smiled, trying to reassure her. She obviously tried to smile back, but her efforts were weaker than his.

"Do it," he said, not breaking his connection with Lois.

He could hear the hint of remorse in Zatanna's voice. "I'm sorry, Clark." She raised her right hand, palm facing him.

"Dnibnu sih eugnot dna kaeps ylno hturt!" Her eyes glowed brilliantly blue. "Laever flesrouy!"


	6. Doubt

**Free Fall  
**Author: Krys Yuy  
Summary: Clark isn't willing to risk his heart again. But when Fate gives him a glimpse into his future, the only question is – how hard will he fall?  
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Lois, Chloe/Bart, Oliver/Dinah, Bruce/Zatanna, Justice League  
Warning: Spoilers up to _Hex_.  
Rating: PG-13/T  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes only.  
Author's Notes: Finally, an update! Sorry for the wait. I'm glad people are liking how I write Lois. I'm feeling a little more comfortable writing her. Thanks to everyone who guessed the episode references. People came up with ones I hadn't even seen or just missed. XD The episodes I was deliberately referring to are _Stiletto_, _Bride_, _Infamous_, _Blank_, _Bizarro_ (the Bizarro arc, technically), _Infamous_ (again), _Spell_. I'm not sure if this chapter will live up to people's expectations, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.  
Thanks again to everyone who took the time to review! (Aaron Leach, cloisharley, buckinut, NaomiBlue, Rebecca5, Ironman29758, f1ameseeker, Hakkyou Kuusou, GreatStarOcean, xxxUtauloverxxx, CuteANDSexxxy17, AliceCullenPage47, EllaBlue, Meg, CamFan4Ever, Monaivendork, ooglebug, Evergreen, 1eclecticreader, IrishUnicorn, Tabitha) – I really treasure each and every review, and I appreciate you taking the time to leave comments. Remember, if you leave a review and you have a FanfictionNet account, I will respond to you. Everyone else who hasn't commented, but who has favorited and/or put this on story alert, please tell me what you think!  
Also, check out my new Clois one-shot, _Hear My Heartbeat on a Staircase_. It's my Clois twist on _Doomsday_ and what happens after. It's also from Lois's POV, so a change of pace from this story. Without further adieu, I present to you Chapter 6 of _Free Fall_!

* * *

Chapter 6: Doubt

Clark reflexively tensed his muscles as Zatanna finished her spell. He waited a few seconds, but when nothing happened, he looked away from Lois and down at himself. He didn't feel any different. Had it worked?

He looked up to once again meet Lois' gaze. She seemed just as puzzled as he felt. "What? That's it?" she asked, looking over at the dark haired sorceress. "No flashing lights or sparks shooting out of your hands? No glowy aura thingy around Smallville's head?"

Zatanna smiled at Lois from over her shoulder, though it seemed a little uneasy. "It's not that kind of spell," she replied. Her right arm lowered to her side again.

"What kind of spell is it then?" Lois demanded, unable to hide the anxiousness in her voice.

"A truth spell," Oliver muttered, his eyes never moving away from Clark. "Now he can't lie."

"I wasn't planning to," Clark replied with a small frown. _Anymore, anyways._

Lois latched on to one thing. "A truth spell? You didn't say anything about a truth spell!" she exclaimed, poking Oliver hard in the back.

"Ow! Lois!" Oliver turned and grabbed her hand in mid-poke before she could strike again. "What did you think was going to happen when we said Zee would use magic?"

"You said nothing would happen if he was being honest!" Lois retorted, snatching her hand back and glaring at him. "I thought there would be bells or something! Maybe Clark would glow blue so you knew he was telling the truth!"

"Calm down," Oliver said sternly. Lois' glare deepened and he raised his hands in a peaceful motion. "This way there won't be any doubt. We'll ask our questions and then Zee can reverse the spell. No harm, no foul."

Lois opened her mouth to retort, but then stopped as if she remembered something. Her worry seemed to increase, unintentionally causing Clark to tense again. "Wait," she said, looking towards Zatanna. "Don't your spells have a tendency to backfire?"

Clark watched as Zatanna shook her head, though the sorceress' gaze never left him. "They used to," she admitted. "I have much greater control now, though. Besides, I've done this spell many times before." Her light-green eyes revealed her confidence in herself, and Clark knew he had not been wrong to trust her when she smiled reassuringly.

"Do you honestly believe we would let Zatanna perform such a spell if we had no faith in her abilities?" Bruce asked Lois, eyebrows drawn together in displeasure.

"Of course not!" Lois immediately replied, looking a bit chagrined at the very idea. "You know I don't mean it like that, Zee, I'm just –"

"Worried, I know," Zatanna finished. "It's okay, Lois. I understand." She turned her head so Lois could see she meant it. "I wouldn't do this to Clark if it wasn't safe." She made a vague gesture with her hands in the direction of Oliver and Bruce. "And if these two weren't so suspicious."

"Enough." Bruce walked forward until he was in front of Zatanna, replacing her as the closest person to Clark. His blue eyes were like hard chips of sapphire as he stared directly into Clark's face.

Clark didn't look away. Few things intimidated him, and Bruce, whoever he was, was not going to be one of them.

Bruce crossed his arms. "Who are you?"

His back straightened imperceptibly. "Clark Kent," he answered, not feeling any sort of side effect from the spell.

"Ah-ha!" Lois exclaimed triumphantly. "Told you so." She smirked in Oliver's direction, but the green archer only rolled his eyes.

Clark, however, noticed his friend's shoulders relax somewhat. His expression remained guarded, but the earlier warmth from the tuxedo shop swam just beneath the surface of his brown eyes. Oliver stepped up next to Bruce and asked, "Are you from the past?"

"I think so," Clark answered. There was still nothing happening on the spell's end, and for a brief instant, he wondered if Zatanna had actually cast it.

Zatanna stood behind Bruce's shoulder, carefully observing the situation. She met his eyes just as he looked over at her. However, she only gave him a rueful nod, confirming that yes, she had done it.

Clark didn't show any visible reaction to her answer, though he did wonder if he was supposed to feel any effects from the spell at all. His attention was drawn back to Oliver when his friend asked, "You _think_ so?"

"I can't be sure," Clark elaborated. "I don't know how I got here."

Bruce's expression revealed nothing, though his eyes had narrowed to a slight degree. "What's the last thing you remember from your time?"

Clark paused, but it was as if a light switch had been flipped in response to the question.

_Thoughts of Lois. A white glow. A cocoon of warmth. Blackness._

He took his time answering as memories rushed through his mind. They already seemed like a lifetime ago. "A bright light cloaking me and then… nothing," he said. "The next thing I knew –" Clark cut himself off and his cheeks flushed as he remembered what came after.

Curious, Oliver asked, "What?"

Clark wanted to shake his head, but to his horror, his lips moved of their own accord and he answered unwillingly. "I was in bed with Lois."

Everyone but Bruce turned to look at her.

Lois locked eyes with Clark, not the least bit embarrassed. "He's my husband." She said it like that explained everything.

The phrase acted like a jolt through his system, but Clark didn't allow himself to think about it. He was too busy trying not to flinch at the indescribable expression that entered her eyes.

"You never said anything about a bright light," Lois continued, her voice becoming oddly subdued.

She sounded… hurt? Clark's mind flashed to his conversation with her at the barn and he suddenly had to make it right. "Lois, I –" He stepped towards her, but when she took the barest step back, he paused. Pain flared in his chest for the briefest of moments. The hand that was reaching towards her froze.

He remembered Lois stepping away from him in the storage room at the Daily Planet after she had locked the door. He didn't remember it hurting like this did. His hand fell to rest limply at his side. What had changed?

Even though there was a distance between them on the roof, Clark was easily able to stare into her hazel gaze. The answer was in her eyes whether she was aware of it or not. One just had to know where to look. He examined her features thoroughly, searching. What had looked so out of place on her countenance? With a start, he recognized the foreign emotion that had graced her face even if it was but for a split-second.

Doubt.

A sick feeling pooled in his gut.

"It –" His throat was suddenly dry and scratchy, and he cleared it quickly. "It slipped my mind," he said, willing her to believe him. "I didn't hide it from you on purpose."

Truthfully, the bright light had been forgotten in favor of more pressing matters. Like the fact that Lois was his wife or that he, for some reason, now went by Superman instead of the Red-Blue Blur. Or one of the many other revelations the future had brought to light. The possible means of his journey to the future paled in comparison to all of that.

How could one small detail shake her faith in him? This Lois? She had seemed utterly immovable, like his Lois in her own way.

_His Lois._

An inkling of the future Lois' reasoning came to him. He held onto that thread and tried to think like her. What was it about the light that had unsettled her? His mind went through his earlier conversation with her.

"_How do you know you didn't just lose your memories?"_

Clark closed his eyes and opened them again after a few seconds, meeting her gaze. "Lois," he said quietly, beseechingly. He ignored their audience. For now, it was only the two of them. She was his one ally in a world where everything was so very different. He didn't realize how much her faith in him meant.

"_Then stay and fight back. Look, give people a chance to see who you really are!"_

She believed in him. Then. Now.

"_Thank you… Clark. For telling me."_

She didn't look away from him. Nor did she ask for an explanation. She simply waited, just as she had done earlier when they were alone on the roof.

A deep breath. "Lois," he repeated gently. He tried to urge her with his eyes, tried to make her see his sincerity. "I told you." The following words again caused that same mysterious pain in his chest. "I'm not your husband."

If he didn't have super hearing, he would have missed her quiet intake of breath. But he definitely didn't miss the sudden anxiety she tried to hide. He was overcome by the compulsion to hug her, but he checked himself.

Instead, he continued to speak, aware that she was listening carefully to his every word, though she had yet to respond. "Ask me anything. I won't lie to you," he said. He was suddenly reminded of the spell. He looked around at Oliver, Zatanna and Bruce.

Oh. Right. His blue-green eyes traveled back to Lois. "I _can't_ lie to you," he amended, touching his throat briefly. "But I am Clark." He willed her to believe it.

She remained both still and silent for several agonizingly long seconds. Then before Oliver could react, she ran past him and straight into Clark's startled arms.

"I know you are," she murmured, pressing her cheek against his. "Didn't I tell you?" She pulled back and took off one hand he had placed on her waist. She clasped it against her heart, and the thrum of her heartbeat raced under his palm. She whispered very, very softly. "Only you could ever make me feel this way."

He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "Lois, I'm sorry," he said. He could still feel her heart. "I didn't say anything because I forgot. That's all."

She searched his face and smiled, albeit sadly. "I know," she said. "It's just… you remembering a light cloaking you… and then waking up next to me in bed…" She breathed in deeply, like she was trying to compose herself. "That light definitely has something to do with you being brought here. And that just means…"

Clark gently pulled his hand away from her heart, letting it fall to his side. "I'm not your Clark," he finished.

She looked like she wanted to say something, but seemed to think better of it. She paused before explaining herself. "I didn't want to believe it. Of course, you're different from him, but loss of memories could account for that." She reached out to clutch the front of his white dress shirt. "But now… now I have to wonder where he is. If he's safe."

The slightest tremor in her voice made Clark ache for her. "I'm so sorry," he said yet again. It seemed like the only thing he could do was apologize.

She shook her head and looked at him, a bit bemused. "Why? It's not your fault." She patted his cheek. "Don't apologize."

Clark was still concerned about her feelings. "Are you sure you're convinced?" She nodded, but he persisted. "Ask me anything," he repeated, tone serious as he looked at her earnestly.

Her eyebrow quirked up as she regarded him. Then she punched his arm. "Don't be so doom-and-gloom. It's not the end of the world," she said. "We'll figure this out. I'll help you and I'll find my husband."

Clark reached out to squeeze her shoulder. "_We'll_ find your husband."

She smiled at him. Confidence and ease seemed to flow back into her as if she never had her moment of vulnerability. Clark wondered at Lois' ability to adapt and power through anything.

"Okay… not to interrupt this strange, inappropriate love fest," Oliver said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "But if we can get back to the topic at hand…" His tone was serious, but Clark could tell it wasn't as cold as before either.

"He's one to talk," Lois muttered under her breath.

Clark was the only one who could hear her. He looked down at her, a little perplexed but the corners of his lips turned up slightly nonetheless.

"Hey." Oliver snapped his fingers twice. "Eyes here, buddy. We're still asking questions."

Clark faced him, feeling both amused and faintly embarrassed.

Lois rolled her eyes, but turned towards Oliver, placing herself in front of Clark. "Then ask them," she said impatiently. "I don't know what else he has to say to convince you."

Oliver went silent for a moment as he thought over something. "Six years?"

Clark nodded. "Six years," he confirmed.

Oliver paused. Then his brown eyes turned quite serious as he asked, "What did I do to you in Black Creek? And why did it work?"

Clark's gaze slid to the back of Lois' head briefly, but once again, his mouth opened without him willing it to. The feeling of helplessness was getting old pretty quick. But they had their questions and he would answer, as promised. They were still his friends.

"You shot me twice with your arrows," he answered quietly. "Jor-El had taken away my powers."

Remorse rippled through Oliver's expression. The Queen billionaire didn't have a chance to respond though.

"You. _Shot._ Him?!" Lois nearly shrieked.

Clark's eyes went wide the same moment Oliver blanched. "Not on purpose!" he replied, raising his hands peacefully. "There was a serum."

"How convenient." Lois rolled up the sleeves of her long-sleeved T-shirt and started towards him. "You better run, Robin Hood."

"Lois, don't you think you're overreacting?" Oliver asked, but he was already taking a step backwards.

"Not at all," she said, smiling sweetly. She came within a couple feet of him and cocked her left fist back.

Oliver tensed, raising his hands to defend himself; but at the same, almost seemed ready to make a run for it. Clark could practically hear his friend's thoughts race as he considered his options. Lois was in mid-swing when Clark supersped and caught her wrist.

"Lois," he said, a note of reprimand in his voice.

She pouted. "I hate when you say my name like that," she said, pulling her wrist out of his grasp. He let her go easily. She crossed her arms and glared at Oliver. "Clark won't always be around to protect you."

Oliver made a sound of disbelief.

"It wasn't his fault," Clark said gently. "He didn't shoot me on purpose."

"It doesn't change the fact that he still _shot_ you." Lois was obviously focusing on one part of the story.

"And I'm sorry it happened," Oliver said. His tone was sincere as he looked at Clark. His face was no longer guarded. "I would never purposefully –"

Clark cut him off. "I know." He smiled.

Oliver's expression notably warmed. "I appreciate your confidence in me… Clark."

Clark's smile brightened.

"Took you long enough," Lois said, frowning.

Oliver sighed. "Lois, I didn't mean to," he insisted.

Lois closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she opened them again, Clark noticed her fire had calmed somewhat. "Of course. I know." She stepped forward as if to hug him, but when he opened his arms, she punched his shoulder instead.

Oliver flinched and clutched his shoulder as Clark cried, "Lois!"

Lois blinked wide-eyed at him. "What?" she asked innocently. "It wasn't his face."

Clark sighed. Well, he couldn't say he was surprised.

"So…" Lois looked at Oliver and Bruce coolly. She began rolling her sleeves back down one at a time. Clark had a fleeting glimpse of a bracelet on her right wrist before her sleeve covered it again.

_Huh._ He only saw part of the bracelet from the side for a split-second, but he felt like he had seen it before. _Weird._ He never usually paid attention to jewelry.

Clark's attention turned back to Lois as she continued, "Are you satisfied?" She crossed her arms as she stared down the two billionaires.

Oliver rubbed his shoulder. He nodded, though he regarded Lois with a sour face. However, his expression softened as he looked over at Clark. "I do believe this is Clark's past self," he said. A smirk formed on his lips. "There's still a certain innocence, don't you think, Bruce?"

"Yes." Bruce's expression didn't give anything away, and Clark couldn't be sure if the dark haired man actually agreed in the spirit of joking or seriousness.

Oliver nodded. "Well, I don't have any more questions. Bruce?"

Bruce didn't answer, only contemplated Clark quietly just as he had the entire time they were on the roof. Clark didn't twitch at all, though he could tell Lois was readying herself for another verbal confrontation. "You don't know who I am, do you?" the dark haired billionaire finally asked.

"Just your first name," Clark replied.

Something flickered through his stoic face before he held out his hand. "Bruce Wayne," he said, tone solid and steady, "of Wayne Enterprises."

Clark shook his hand firmly. Another billionaire superhero. Of course. "Clark Kent," he replied. A grin lit his mouth. "As you might have guessed."

The corners of Bruce's lips tugged upwards for a quick instant, so fast that Clark was sure he imagined it. It merely added to his mystery, like his earlier more carefree attitude at the party. But watching him now, Clark doubted anyone could crack the dark haired billionaire's stern countenance. It wasn't hard at all to imagine Bruce Wayne as a superhero. Criminals probably buckled under his severe and unforgiving stare. Bruce had an air of strength and complete authority about him. It was the kind of subtle power that hid in the shadows until just the right time.

"You have a great poker face," Clark commented, unable to resist.

Bruce nodded shallowly. "I've been told." This time he smirked and Clark discerned that he wasn't completely humorless. Bruce held out his hand behind him and waited until the lovely dark haired sorceress placed her hand in his.

Clark watched as Bruce led Zatanna to stand next to him. Bruce squeezed her hand and began, "This is my –"

"Zatanna Zatara," she said. She held out her free hand to him and smiled. "But you can call me Zee."

Clark shook her hand next. "It's nice to meet you," he said sincerely.

An amused twinkle entered her eye. "Likewise."

"Okay, you've all been officially introduced to each other," Lois said, placing a hand on Clark's shoulder. He recognized the impatience in her tone. "Can you take the spell off him now?"

Zatanna raised her arm, but Bruce grabbed her wrist and pulled it back down. "Bruce," she said, obviously displeased. She tried to yank her hand away, but he kept a firm grip on it. By the sorceress' exasperated sigh, Clark knew it was only strong enough to hold, not hurt.

"Do you know why you're here?" Bruce asked him.

He shook his head. "No."

"Are you a danger to the Justice League?"

"No," Clark answered again, straightening his back slightly at the adverse nature of the questions.

Bruce was obviously asking these questions for the safety of his companions, but it didn't make it irk any less. Out of the corner of his eye, Clark could see Lois opening her mouth again, furious, but he placed his left hand over the one she had on his right shoulder. He squeezed once, a sign telling her it was okay. She bit her cheek, understanding but not liking it one bit.

"However temporary, do you feel yourself capable of filling Superman's role?"

Immediately, Clark wanted to say yes, but his mouth closed just as it opened. He now recognized the feeling of the spell tingling along his skin. "I don't know," he answered, though the words didn't come from his own thoughts. At least, he didn't believe they did.

He paused. Why did he say that? He had spent the better part of the last year running around the city doing what exactly what Superman was doing. Saving people. Stopping crime. They were the same person! He was perfectly capable of doing what Superman could.

Thoughts unbidden raced through his head. There was the pure excitement and animation exhibited by the civilians of Metropolis, the pictures he had seen of the superhero flying, and Jimmy's glowing endorsement, not to mention the unmitigated pride in Lois' voice.

"_But I just assumed you were off saving the day like you do."_

It should have inspired confidence. And it did. But it was slowly being overshadowed by a passing fear that had planted itself earlier in the back of his mind. The spell, however, urged it to grow as a result of Bruce's question.

Could he really live up to the expectations of this future?

"Stop it," Lois whispered.

He looked down at her, blinking.

She returned his gaze with an irritated, yet worried one of her own. "I know that look," she said quietly. "So whatever you're brooding about, stop it. There's no reason for it. Especially now."

There was no way she could know what he was thinking. She couldn't possibly understand –

Bruce, oblivious to Clark's spinning thoughts, relentlessly continued. "Did anything unusual happen before you were sent here?"

"Just the light," Clark responded automatically, forced to shelve his depressing reflections about his superhero identity.

Bruce expanded the parameters of his question. "What about earlier in the day?"

Clark's brain was already in the midst of pondering the consequences of possible answers when he felt the spell again. He didn't try to fight it, knowing it was pointless. Instead, he braced himself for the reactions from his companions. "I used the Legion ring to turn back time," he answered.

Bruce frowned as Oliver exclaimed, "What?"

Zatanna remained conspicuously silent, though her eyes had widened somewhat.

Lois' nails dug into his shoulder. He turned his head, expecting her to be angry, but she only seemed vaguely puzzled.

Oliver looked mildly frustrated. "You didn't think that bit of info was relevant?" he asked.

"Not really, no," Clark answered truthfully, turning his attention back to his friend. If Lois wanted to know something, she would ask. "I destroyed the ring after using it."

"What?" Oliver repeated, a bit scandalized. "Why?"

"Controlling time is dangerous. It always comes at a price," Clark stated solemnly, reciting the same explanation he had given Chloe. He didn't feel any sense of powerlessness, and realized if he were willing to answer the question, the spell wouldn't affect him. Resisting, however, was another matter entirely. "It was better I got rid of it."

"The Legion doesn't just give those rings away like free candy, Clark!" Oliver exclaimed. Clark had the distinct feeling Oliver was more upset about the ring rather than the fact that he had used it to turn back time. The archer continued, "It's an honor to be given one. It means they trust you."

"No one should ever be given power over time," Bruce interjected. "Clark…" Bruce looked over at him appraisingly, respect coloring his tone. "… was right to dispose of it."

Oliver evidently disagreed, but instead asked, "Why did you turn back time?"

Lois' grip on his shoulder tightened before he even answered. He glanced at her just in time to see the moment realization washed over her features. She returned his gaze, looking annoyed, bemused and exasperated all at once.

_She knew._

Clark didn't have time to panic, or decide if that was even the right response, before the spell worked its magic again. "I thought the world was ready to hear my secret and accept me, but I was wrong. People I cared about got hurt," he answered, looking at Lois the entire time. "I had to make it right."

Lois' expression turned enigmatic and he wondered why she chose this moment of all times to remain quiet. He interpreted her emotions earlier, but he was missing something here. She was his Lois, but not. He couldn't read her as well. Would his future self be able to decipher her thoughts? When her hand fell away from his shoulder, he tried not to be bothered. Instead, he let his own hand fall back to his side as well.

Oliver was oblivious to the sudden tension, too busy trying to figure out the more pressing matter. "So you destroyed the ring before arriving in this time?"

Clark looked away from Lois and at him. "Yes."

Oliver turned to Bruce. "Do you think we can rule out the ring from this time equation?"

Bruce nodded. "If he destroyed the ring, I don't see how it could play a part later," he commented.

"Back to square one, then," Oliver said, sighing.

Lois cleared her throat noisily and everyone looked at her. "Spell. Off. _Now_." She pointed from Zatanna to Clark.

"One more question," Bruce interrupted easily, stepping in front of Zatanna this time. Before Lois could protest, Bruce turned to Clark and asked, "Would you ever hurt Lois?"

Clark's head snapped up at that. "No," he stated emphatically, restrained yet passionate at the same time. "_Never_."

Lois' left fingers intertwined with his right ones, but when he looked over at her, she was already glaring at the dark haired billionaire. "You're done, Bruce," she said. "You know he's Clark. Now let Zatanna reverse the spell or I will move you myself."

He didn't seem intimidated, but he tilted his head, conceding his hold over the situation.

Zatanna stepped around him and murmured, "You're impossible."

Bruce made what sounded like a murmur of agreement, but didn't articulate his thoughts.

She sighed, but her palm was already up and facing Clark. Blue glowed in her eyes again, but this time, she muttered the incantation under her breath. Seconds later, she lowered her palm. "It's done," she said.

Clark didn't feel any different. Then again, that's what happened when the spell actually worked.

"Did it work?" Lois said anxiously. She moved in front of him and began to run her hands over his shoulders and down his chest.

Clark stopped her exploration and grabbed her hands, a bit embarrassed by her brazen actions. "Ask me a question and we'll see if I can lie," he said.

A twinkle entered her eye, but before he could regret his suggestion, she simply asked, "Is Shelby a girl or a boy?"

Clark scoffed. "A girl, of course," he lied. He tried to remain serious, but the grin that lit Lois' face made him crack.

"Well, no wonder Shelby has a gender complex. Me thinking he's a boy, you thinking he's a girl," Lois commented offhandedly.

"_She_'s a girl," Clark stated just for the sake of arguing with her. Her snort made his grin widen.

"Wow, is there no version of you two where sparks don't fly?" Oliver asked, shaking his head.

Clark flushed. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he denied.

Lois laughed lightly. "Keep telling yourself that, Smallville," she said, reaching up to adjust his glasses.

Clark's blush deepened and he looked for some kind of escape. His eyes caught Zatanna's amused ones. "Thanks for lifting the spell," he said.

"My pleasure," she replied, smiling. "Though I wish I didn't have to do it in the first place. Some people are just paranoid."

"Cautious," Oliver corrected with a slight harrumph. "Besides, you don't live like we do without being a little 'paranoid'. We had to be sure. We couldn't have another breach like last time."

"Last time?" Clark echoed curiously.

"You don't need to know," Bruce said. His voice wasn't unkind. He was merely stating a fact. "Actually, since you've been here for more than half the day, I'm assuming you already know a lot more than you should. It's best if you stay in your apartment until we figure this out."

"Bruce!" Lois said angrily. "We can't just lock him up like some dangerous –"

"I'm not implying that," he interrupted calmly. "But there's a reason we don't know our futures. Knowledge is power. When he goes back, he could change the timeline from what we know." He gave Lois a hard stare. "And I know you don't want that."

"Of course not." She gritted her teeth. "But he doesn't have to be cooped up. We just won't tell him anything unless it's need-to-know."

"I won't- I won't try to find out anything," Clark promised as he thought of Lois. "I want to help in any way I can, including trying to find out what happened to your Clark. I can't do that in an apartment all day."

"He can help with patrols," Oliver added. "This way we won't have one man down."

Bruce was silent for a while. "Or we could just send him back now." He glanced at Zatanna.

"As much as I want to find out where my husband is, I'm not all that eager for you to try another spell on his younger self so soon either," Lois said, stepping in front of Clark. He wondered if it was a subconscious or intentional action.

"Lois –" Oliver began.

"Don't even try it, Ollie," she said, shaking her head. "One spell a day's the limit." She grabbed Clark's hand and began leading him toward the door of the roof. "Check in with us tomorrow."

"Where are you going?" Oliver asked, running to catch up with them before they left.

"I'm taking him home. He definitely can't go to the party," she said. She looked back over her shoulder at Bruce. "He won't find out anything unless we tell him."

Clark tried to say goodbye to Oliver, Zatanna and Bruce, but Lois had already yanked him through the doorway and down the one flight of stairs that led to the penthouse floor.

"Let me just get my purse from behind the bar and we can get going," Lois said, stopping outside the doors of the club. She put her hands on his shoulders. "You stay here. I'll give Chloe and Casanova some kind of explanation."

"Wait." Clark gripped her arm before she could turn away. "Can't I say hi to them? I wanted to wish them congratulations."

Something flashed through Lois' eyes and she shook her head. "I'm really sorry, Clark, but you can't. It's better if you don't see –" She cut herself off. "Just stay here, alright?" She gave him a stern look and entered the still crowded party.

Clark watched her go, lingering by the doorway when his eyes caught on a familiar red hoodie. He turned his head to see Bart and Chloe standing in a corner on the opposite side of the room from the bar, talking quietly. Chloe's back was to the entrance, but Bart was facing it. Before Clark could duck, Bart spotted him. His friend grinned and waved him over.

Clark hesitated, glancing over at Lois who was talking to the bartender. Then he looked back at Bart, who was still waving. He could make some small talk, just for a little bit. What harm could that do? He hurried over to his friends.

He was only a few feet away when Bart greeted, "Hey amigo!"

"Hi Bart," he replied. He looked from him to his blonde best friend, who was currently finishing up a text on her cell phone. The left side of her face was visible to him, and she seemed unchanged, except for her longer hair. "Chloe."

"Sorry, Clark. Just give me one… more… second." She finished her text with a flourish. As she put her phone away in her clutch, she said, "Glad you could make it. Wouldn't be the same without my bestie."

"I wouldn't have missed it," he said, grinning. Clark moved forward to hug her warmly, but stopped short when she looked up from her purse and turned around to face him. The grin on his features faded.

Chloe's warm smile turned puzzled. "Clark, what is it?"

Clark had felt an array of emotions upon his various discoveries of the future – surprise, delight, and utter confusion to name a few. But this was the first time something horrified him.

Chloe stood before him, changed subtly in ways only the passage of time could accomplish. Straight blonde hair reaching past her shoulders, the curves of her face more defined, and perhaps even a tiny bit taller. But then there was the hint of one too many things seen hidden behind her cheerful expression. That alone would have been enough to alert him that something was wrong, but the six years he knew nothing about had left their mark permanently for all to see.

Hidden only partially by her hair, a deep scar ran from the middle top of her forehead, through her right eyebrow and down the outer side of her face. It disappeared behind the curtain of blonde locks covering her right ear. The color of the scar had already faded, so he knew it wasn't recent. However, by the looks of it, the injury had to have initially been a nasty blend of purples, reds and browns.

But apparently, that disfigurement wasn't enough. The dull grey of her right eye marred what he remembered as her vibrant blue gaze. He stared at its glassy and somewhat blank surface. Fear, guilt and sorrow flooded him as he realized she wasn't seeing anything at all.

She was blind.


	7. Mystery

**Free Fall**  
Author: Krys Yuy  
Summary: Clark isn't willing to risk his heart again. But when Fate gives him a glimpse into his future, the only question is – how hard will he fall?  
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Lois, Chloe/Bart, Oliver/Dinah, Bruce/Zatanna, Justice League  
Warning: Spoilers up to _Hex_.  
Rating: PG-13/T  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes only.  
Author's Notes: This chapter was such a bitch to write, and even now, I'm not exactly pleased with it. After _Doomsday_, my Chloe love isn't exactly overflowing, so her role is being minimized. This chapter could be considered filler, I suppose, but it actually sets up elements of the story that will definitely be picked up later. Still, I hope you enjoy it as is. Also, pimping my new Clois one-shot, _Hear My Heartbeat on a Staircase_, again. Please check it out if you have the time.  
Thanks again to everyone who took the time to review! (xxxUtauloverxxx, icesk8er93, CuteANDSexxxy17, f1ameseeker, EllaBlue, reeven, Aaron Leach, CamFan4Ever, Kairan1979, cloisharley, EdwardBella4ever17, Hakkyou Kuusou, daydreamer10101, mstl, Evergreen) – I appreciate each and every review, so thank you taking the time to leave comments. If you leave a review and you have a FanfictionNet account, I will respond to you. Everyone else who hasn't commented, but who has favorited and/or put this on story alert, please tell me what you think!  
Special thanks to my loyal readers and reviewers. You guys are amazing – thanks so much!

* * *

Chapter 7: Mystery

Chloe, however, was oblivious to the horrifying changes in her appearance. She smiled awkwardly, still confused by his silence but wanting to break the tension.

Clark couldn't find it in himself to return the smile yet. Sometime during his missing years, he hadn't been able to protect her. The blank grey of her right eye was evidence of that. His sorrow eased slightly when he noticed her left eye was the same lively blue he remembered.

So she was only partially blind.

Clark was thankful for that, but it didn't lessen his guilt.

"What's wrong?" Chloe asked, looking more worried the longer he stared at her.

He tore his eyes away from her scar and cleared his throat. "Nothing. It's nothing," he said. He forced himself to smile. "Bart's hogging you, that's all." He stepped forward and hugged her.

She hugged him back and he wished he could tell her how sorry he was.

Instead, Clark pulled back and said, "I wanted to wish you both congratulations." His future self had probably conveyed that to them already. "Again."

"Thanks," Bart replied with a grin. He kissed the side of Chloe's temple. "In a little more than a month, this beautiful creature will be all mine."

Chloe reached behind her and Bart was immediately there. She grasped his hands and brought them around her waist, so she nestled comfortably against the chest of her fiancée. Bart nuzzled her cheek and she laughed.

Chloe turned her head to the left so she could look at Bart. "I'm already yours," she whispered. She placed her left hand against his face. Bart leaned into her touch and she smiled at him.

Despite his remorseful mood, Clark felt happiness seep into him at the obvious love Chloe and Bart had for each other. But he had seen this before. His thoughts changed to Jimmy and his insides went cold. It was only a little more than a month ago in his time when he witnessed Chloe just as happy with Jimmy.

He didn't understand. What went wrong?

Though Clark was reluctant to potentially ruin the mood, he also said he would do something for his other friend. "Jimmy sends his well wishes, too," he stated. "He's happy for you." He watched his friends carefully for their reactions.

Bart smiled graciously and there was no trace of insincerity when he said, "Tell him thanks. That means a lot."

Chloe faced forward again, and she slowly lowered her hand from Bart's cheek and back to her side. Her smile became sad and perhaps a tiny bit regretful. "Yes," she agreed. She echoed her fiancée's statements. "Will you thank Jimmy for us when you see him?"

Clark nodded. "I will," he promised. _If I'm still here on Monday._ It didn't seem painful for Chloe to talk about Jimmy, but given his conversations with both of them, they weren't exactly on speaking terms either. His brows furrowed as he tried to decipher any clues he might have missed.

"Smallville!"

Clark winced and Bart and Chloe laughed at the abashed expression on his face. He frowned at them.

"In trouble with the missus, Stretch?" Bart asked. He grinned with one eyebrow raised.

Chloe leaned back against Bart again, her good eye focusing on her best friend. Her mischievous expression matched that of her fiancée's. "So, do you know what you did to incur Lois's wrath?" she asked.

"I have an idea," he muttered under his breath. He turned his head to see Lois making her way to their little group in the corner.

Lois had her purse slung over her shoulder and one very irritated frown on her face. "Have you suddenly gone deaf? Or were you not listening to me earlier?" she demanded when she came to stand next to him.

Clark wondered if he could appease her somehow. "Lois –"

She abruptly whirled around to face Chloe and Bart. Her ponytail smacked his face for the second time that day. He blinked and rubbed his eyes with the vague suspicion this time was not an accident.

"I'm so sorry to bail on you, Chlo, but something really important came up," Lois said. She somehow managed to hug her cousin even though Chloe was in the circle of Bart's arms.

Chloe returned the hug, but still frowned. "Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Is it anything that needs our set of skills?" Bart added, gesturing to himself and Clark.

Lois shook her head. "It's something Clark and I have to take care of personally," she answered vaguely.

Chloe's frown deepened, but instead of questioning them further like Clark expected her to, she let it go. Chloe moved out of Bart's arms to hug each of them one more time. "Be safe," she whispered.

Clark nodded. "Of course," he said, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"As safe as can be," Lois replied, smiling.

Chloe scrutinized her suspiciously with her good eye. "Uh-huh," she said, clearly unconvinced.

Before Chloe could undoubtedly mention Lois's penchant for trouble, Lois leaned forward and kissed her cousin's cheek. "Call me if you need anything," she said quickly, already walking backward. "I put a lot of work into this shower. Enjoy it." She winked and grabbed Clark's hand as she spun around to the exit. "Bye."

"Bye," Chloe replied, a thoughtful look coming over her face.

"See you lovebirds later," Bart said, grinning.

Lois turned slightly so Bart could see her roll her eyes. "See ya, Casanova. Take care of my cousin," she said. She faced forward again and waved without looking back.

Clark waved with her, shrugging helplessly as he was pulled along. Chloe and Bart watched with mirth coloring their expressions.

"You still say that every time, sweet stuff," Bart called out after them. "I will."

Clark tensed as they made their way through the doors and towards the elevator. "'Sweet stuff'?" he repeated, displeased for some reason.

Lois jabbed the down button and, though she still seemed angry, now looked at him with a bit of wry amusement. "Something wrong?" she asked sweetly.

Clark tried to stomp down on his flare of annoyance towards Bart and now Lois. "No, nothing's wrong," he mumbled. He made his voice louder. "I thought you of all people would hate anyone calling you 'sweet stuff'."

"I do," Lois agreed, nodding. "But as much as I hate it, little nicknames like those are part of Casanova's charm."

Clark nearly bristled. "Charm?" he repeated incredulously. He was skeptical, not because he doubted how Bart came across to women, but because of the fact that the speedster's specific brand of charm seemed to be welcomed by Lois, a woman who Clark always pictured dropkicking Bart than letting him make a move.

"Supposed charm," she elaborated, looking more amused by the second as she glanced at him.

Was there something on his face? Clark discreetly brought one hand to his cheek and forehead, but didn't feel anything.

Lois bit back a smile and moved her gaze up to the numbers on the panel that lit up with every floor they passed. "Besides, I can never pin him down long enough to get my message across," she added. "He's not only fast, but slippery too. Plus he's marrying my baby cousin. He gets a free pass for now."

Clark's shoulders relaxed. So it wasn't that she liked the nickname. She tolerated it. That made a lot more sense. He frowned. Why did he care again? He was never bothered with Bart's tendency to nickname people before.

Lois continued to talk, unaware of his inner musings. "Chloe wouldn't take too kindly to me incapacitating her future husband before the honeymoon, anyway."

Clark grimaced. "I get it. No need for details," he said. However, bringing the conversation from Bart to Chloe triggered what he only temporarily ignored. The image of Chloe's glassy eye and grisly scar yanked at his conscience. "Lois –"

She immediately interrupted him; her earlier anger and irritation resurfacing before he could even finish the second syllable of her name. "I told you to stay outside the club. Very simple instructions," she said. "And yet –" Her glare hit him the moment the elevator dinged, signaling their arrival on the ground floor. "You revert to, not even copy boy, but intern mindset."

Lois almost huffed, but instead walked out of the elevator with Clark following a few steps behind her. Her disapproval rang in his ears, bothering him so much that he didn't even question how she knew what he was going to ask. Maybe it would have been better if he had ignored Bart. He dismissed the thought instantly.

If he had stayed outside the club and not gone over to greet his friends, he would've been kept in the dark about Chloe. Irritation of his own rippled through him as he and Lois made their way outside the Metropolis Satellite Center. Was Lois never going to tell him? Had she somehow planned on running interference between him and her cousin?

He waited until she unlocked her car and they were both seated inside, seatbelts fastened. She had just pulled out onto the empty street when he asked, "What happened to Chloe?"

Lois's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "This is why I wanted you to wait outside the club. I knew you would see her and then there would be questions," she said. She waved a hand in his direction. "And look! You, with said questions."

"Question," he corrected, not fazed by her displeasure with him. He focused instead on somehow fixing what had gone wrong with his best friend. "I only want one answer."

"Does 'no' work for you?" She smiled cheekily and Clark saw his Lois in her more in that moment than any of their previous interactions. While annoyed, he couldn't say he wasn't comforted to be on familiar ground.

He knew she wouldn't back down, but he wouldn't either. Not about this. "What happened to her?" he asked again, prepared to wait it out.

Lois settled back in her seat as she stopped at a traffic light. "You know perfectly well I'm not going to tell you," she replied easily.

So he was going to lose in the 'who could be more stubborn' race. No surprise there. Sincerity would win her over, he hoped. "Lois, I can stop it from happening," he said quietly. "Tell me, please."

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and her expression softened. Before he could feel heartened by it, she said, "Sometimes things happen for a reason."

Clark stared at her in disbelief. His Lois was disappearing. "You can't honestly tell me if you had the chance to save Chloe from losing half her sight or getting those scars, that you wouldn't take it."

The light turned green and Lois stared straight ahead as she pressed the gas pedal. She stayed persistently silent.

Clark didn't recognize her. He reached out and touched her shoulder. "Lois, _please_."

"I can't tell you."

He dropped his hand. "Can't or won't?" he asked, voice like steel.

She puffed a breath, the action stirring her hair away from her forehead. "You're not seeing the bigger picture here," she replied, shaking her head.

"Since when were you about the bigger picture?" Clark asked, not taking his eyes off her. If it would help her cousin in any way, Clark knew his Lois would break all the rules. There had to be something else going on. "You're always about the smaller, more immediate picture."

The corners of her lips flitted up and he frowned, seeing nothing amusing about the situation. She spoke before he could. "If you do something different, there's the risk that something worse happens." Her mouth set in a firm line and her face was suddenly very sober. "She could die, Clark." She glanced at him and repeated, "One wrong move and she could _die_."

The protests he had ready vanished on his lips. What could he say to that? While something terrible had happened to Chloe, she was alive. Could he really risk that just so she would be as healthy and whole as he remembered the last time he saw her in his time?

The answer was easy. He closed his eyes and quietly said, "I'm sorry. I already broke my promise."

"_I won't- I won't try to find out anything."_

A tiny part of him rebelled at him standing down. But the topic was closed. For now. "This is going to be harder than I thought," he admitted, looking out at the nighttime streets of Metropolis.

"I can imagine."

He looked back at her and wryly commented, "Yes, well, you wouldn't have made that promise in the first place."

Lois latched on to the tonal change of their conversation. "No, I wouldn't have," she readily agreed. She gave him a look with one eyebrow raised before turning her attention back to the road. "Seriously, Smallville? You're in the freakin' future. Curiosity _should_ be at the top of your list." The mirth in her voice quieted as she added, "I don't fault you for wanting to know about Chloe."

Clark knew she wasn't changing her mind any time soon. "But you won't tell me."

She nodded. "It's rare when I see eye to eye with Batboy, but he does have a point. The more you know, the more you can affect this future when you're sent back," she said. There seemed to be something more behind her words, but she didn't disclose anything else.

_Batboy?_ Clark decided he didn't want to know. Instead, he said, "I have a feeling that's not happening until I find out _why_ I was sent here in the first place."

Lois reached over to pat his thigh as she said, "Good thing you have the world's number one investigative reporter with you then, isn't it?"

His lips twitched. "The 'world's'?" He was glad her touch on his leg was brief. There had been no time to fidget before her right hand returned to the steering wheel.

"It's been six years, Clark," she said, pulling into the underground garage of her apartment building. She winked. "Was there any doubt?"

–

Lois opened the door to their – well, hers and not _his_ – apartment, sliding her coat off her shoulders. She didn't seem to notice when Clark took it from her. She headed down the hallway. "I don't know about you, but I think tonight is going to be a restless one," she said, entering the bedroom. "Let's see if we can get some shut eye."

Clark hung both their coats in the hallway closet and jogged down the hall to stand in the bedroom doorway. "I'll take the couch," he said quickly.

She frowned at him as she closed the lid on her jewelry box. She placed her hand on her hip and said, "You could just sleep here with m–"

"Lois!" His voice came out more than a little squeaky, and he blushed. "It's okay, really." Did he look as nervous as he felt?

She stared at him for a long moment before her eyes widened. Then her lips curved up impishly. "Why, Clark Kent, are you afraid I'm going to compromise your virtue?"

So this is what wanting to crawl under a rock felt like. "N-no!" he denied immediately. "Of course not! It's just a little… a little…"

Clark coughed, his cheeks burning as memories rushed through him. Memories of a naked Lois – who he hadn't known was Lois yet – pressed against him. His blush glowed brighter.

"Hmm…" Lois sauntered over to him, the hand on her hip moving up to her face as she regarded him playfully. "Thinking good thoughts?"

"…" Maybe if he didn't look directly at her, he wouldn't feel so trapped. His eyes darted to the floor, the ceiling, anywhere but at her. It worked. Sort of.

"Smallville, I don't sleep naked all the time."

He choked.

She laughed.

Clark's eyes shot down to meet hers and found them sparkling with mischief. Forget the rock. Maybe the ground could open up and swallow him. How did she know what he was thinking, anyway?

Lois placed her right palm full against his chest, and he almost jumped in surprise. Her touch brought back memories of his own Lois doing the same – the time with her teasing smile and that red, red dress. That particular recollection wasn't really helping his nerves. Lois looked at her hand on his chest as if it held the secrets to her next big article. He squirmed when she looked up at him from under her long eyelashes.

Was it his imagination or was she leaning into him? His breath hitched.

She must have noticed his edginess because her hand dropped away, the impishness in her countenance dimmed. "Sorry," she said, looking contrite. "I think I might be using you as a coping mechanism." Her smile still held a trace of mischief, but now with added doses of both dejection and nostalgia. "That and I haven't flustered you like this since we first started dating."

He couldn't ever imagine becoming comfortable with Lois's advances, not when his cheeks hadn't even cooled down from blushing so much. "I get used to this?" he asked.

His disbelief chased away the few clouds that surrounded her countenance, for the time being. Her smile grew. "Oh, I still fluster you," she said. "In different ways."

Clark was never going to banish the memories of her earlier that morning if she didn't stop implying things. It felt like his collar was on too tight and he tugged at it uselessly.

Before he could ask her very politely and plainly to stop before he melted into a puddle of embarrassment, Lois added, "You just grow a lot bolder."

Him? Bold? Certainly not in the way she was insinuating. He stared at her suspiciously. "Red kryptonite bolder?" he asked.

She held in her laugh, but the fact that she almost did made him frown at her. That seemed to only increase her amusement. "No," she answered, shaking her head. "It's all you."

The affectionate smile on her face made his chest ache. "I'm not… used to this," he admitted. The words flowed from his mouth before his brain could decide if it was a good idea or not. _Not with you._

Understanding radiated from her and her expression became even softer. She stepped away from him and walked to the closet. "Relax, tough guy," she said, tone light and back to its familiar teasing. She rummaged through the wardrobe and reached up on her tiptoes for something higher up. "Your virtue is safe with me."

Clark was glad Lois wasn't looking at him. Being vulnerable and open around her was something he had to get used to. In an effort to keep things friendly, however, he came up behind her. "What do you need?" he asked. She looked to be reaching for some linen.

"A blanket and a pillow," she said, moving aside for him. "I don't know why Clark put them so high up." She huffed and it sounded rather odd for Lois to be talking about him, but not really him.

Clark grabbed a white pillow and a dark blue quilt he was sure his mother must have made. He started to hand it to her, but Lois shook her head and pushed the soft items back into his hold.

"Since you're forgoing a warm bed – and I mean that in the most innocent way possible –

you'll have to take the couch," she said. She picked up his discarded clothes that he left on the mattress earlier that morning and brushed past him and back into the hallway.

Clark quickly followed her as she led him down the hall and into the living room. She removed some books from the couch and tossed them onto the coffee table. She then smoothed out the wrinkles of the cotton cushions and laid his sleeping clothes on top of the afghan hanging off the back of the couch.

"You can use this as an extra layer if you want," she said, fingering the woolen blanket made up of red and blue knitted squares.

"Thank you," Clark replied, setting the pillow down on the end of the couch closest to the hallway. He placed the folded blanket next to it.

"I would offer the spare bedroom if there was an actual bed in there," Lois said. She walked around the furniture so the couch was now between her and Clark. "We've been meaning to get a futon for guests, but so many things keep coming up."

"The couch is fine," Clark commented. He looked over at her and noticed the sadness lurking behind her hospitable mask. She didn't seem close to breaking down, though, and Clark admired her strength. He knew it wasn't much, but he would do what he could to distract her from worrying. "I'm used to it, remember?"

The right side of her mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "I remember," she said. Instead of hitting him with a quick-witted retort like he expected her to, her gaze grew distant and she seemed hundreds of miles away.

He hadn't meant to submerge her in more memories. "Lois, I want to apologize –"

She snapped out of her trance to stare at him in confusion. "_Again_, Smallville?" she interrupted. "What for?"

"Your husband is missing, and I'm disrupting your life –"

"First off, you're giving yourself way too much credit," she cut in. "You have no idea who or what caused this time snafu, so you can't possibly blame yourself. You can't blame anyone, really."

Lois continued, "As for disrupting my life?" She shook her head, holding in a snort. "Do you not know me? I do that perfectly fine on my own."

Clark was at a loss, because if he weren't here, then his future self would be and there wouldn't be this entire mess in the first place. "I just –"

She held up a hand, cutting him off again. "Clark, you can play the blame game all you want. I'll never accept your apology because there's nothing you have to be sorry for." She held his gaze for a long moment. "Capiche?"

After a second or two, Clark looked away and nodded even though he didn't agree.

"Get some rest," Lois said. She walked over to the entrance of the hallway and leaned against the frame. "I have a feeling the two billionaire boys will be gracing us with their presence sooner rather than later." She paused and then made a gesture to the closed door behind her without looking back.

"Oh, and so I don't offend your maidenly sensibilities," she said with a wry grin, "you can use the spare bathroom across the hall here. It's stocked with shampoo and the works."

Clark nodded again, hoping she could see the appreciation on his face. "Thanks, Lois."

She nodded, pushing away from the hallway arch. "Sweet dreams, handsome." Her smile was soft and sad, and she disappeared down the hallway before he could say anything.

The affectionate nickname did not go unnoticed by him, though she obviously said it without thinking. This was the fourth time now. To be perfectly honest, it did feel rather weird to hear her call him that. It suggested an intimacy far greater than any of her previous nicknames, even Smallville. 'Smallville' had started out annoying, but was now comfortable, perhaps even soothing in its familiarity. When uttered, it didn't have to mean anything beyond the friendship category. The Lois he knew would not have called him 'handsome' in a million years, not when it would admit a physical attraction to him. That, and he could hear her saying it would give him an ego boost he didn't need.

Even as he rolled his eyes, Clark acknowledged that having future Lois call him 'handsome' didn't exactly make him feel horrible – just… strange. In a good way.

Shaking his head, Clark quickly changed into the clothes Lois left on the couch, the same ones he chose that morning. Though he was without the red and gold plaid flannel, he wore the light blue pajama pants and white muscle shirt. He folded the slacks and button-up shirt and placed them in a neat pile on the lounge chair. Then he took off his glasses and put them on the coffee table.

Clark sat on the couch and blew out a tired breath, running a hand through his hair. It had been a really, really long day. He grabbed the folded blanket and spread it out with a flick of his wrist before he let himself fall back along the couch. The pillow provided a soft cushion for his head and the quilt a warm cover for his body as he stared up at the ceiling.

So many things had happened in the course of twenty-four hours. Being sent to the future, finding out his identity as the Red-Blue Blur was apparently inconsequential, Chloe's mysterious scars… Frankly, nothing shook him more than the fact that Lois Lane was his wife.

This was not a future he would have imagined for himself.

In fact, it was never supposed to be in the realm of possibility. Everything was different in 2015. Everything he thought he knew about his life was out of whack, aligning in ways he could have never foreseen.

He didn't know who he was anymore.

Clark closed his eyes and though his troubling thoughts would have normally kept him awake, his exhaustion had him falling asleep within seconds.

–

The warmth of the sun shining on his face finally woke Clark from his slumber. He blinked up at the unfamiliar ceiling, wondering for a half-second where he was when the events of the day before came rushing back. He groaned and sat up slowly, his left arm bracing itself along the back of the couch.

A mocha aroma drifted through the air and he turned his head to look in the kitchen. His angle didn't offer a very good view, so he used his x-ray vision to see the coffee maker brewing. That meant Lois was awake as well. He concentrated his hearing and heard her shuffling around in the bathroom as water ran from the faucet.

Clark stood, stretching, and decided he needed a shower before he could even attempt to face what he had yesterday. He walked at a human pace to the spare bedroom and glanced around the room that contained only bookcases and file boxes arranged in a haphazard manner. Knowing the chaos of the room could only be Lois's doing, he shook his head with a small smile before he went into the bathroom.

Clark went under the spray of the shower and let the water wash away his worries. He didn't let himself think of anything and kept his mind blank. He shampooed his hair and scrubbed his body, drawing out the shower for as long as he could. Minutes later, he stepped out before he felt like he was wasting water.

Feeling clean and refreshed was a good way to start the day, Clark decided. He grabbed the beige towel hanging off the rack and wrapped it around his waist. Too late he realized he didn't bring a fresh change of clothes. Blushing at the thought of Lois catching him with only a towel, he listened hard.

The apartment was quiet and he frowned. Had Lois gone out without telling him? So early in the morning? In any case, that meant the bedroom was empty. He supersped into the room and grabbed some boxers, a pair of dark jeans and a casual black T-shirt. He tossed the towel onto the bed and, afraid that Lois could walk in at any moment, also supersped through putting on his choice of clothes. When he was done, he picked up the towel again and folded it as he walked out into the hallway. He dropped it off in the spare bathroom before wandering into the kitchen to grab a cup of the coffee he smelled earlier.

Clark was crossing through the living room area when he spotted Lois out on the balcony. She sat in one of the chairs, her knees pulled up to her chest. As he got closer, he saw that she was cradling a cup of coffee between her hands. She rested the bottom of the mug on the tops of her knees. She wore jeans again plus a white peasant blouse with long sleeves. This time, however, instead of a ponytail, her dark brown hair tumbled over her shoulders, still wet from her shower. Lois stared out at the Metropolis skyline, eyes focused on nowhere in particular, her face pensive and downcast.

He knew what she was thinking, and he wished he could bring him back for her. But instead of calling attention to it, he merely leaned his shoulder against the frame of the open sliding door and said, "Good morning."

She turned at the sound of his voice. When her eyes landed on him, something flashed in her expression. He heard her sharp intake of breath before she replied, "Morning." She smiled and her gaze cleared of any turmoil. "Sleep well?"

Small talk. He could do small talk. Better to ease into things, anyway, he supposed. "Better than I thought I would," he answered. "You?"

Lois looked back out at the view and took a deep breath. "Not really, no," she admitted. She brought her legs down from the chair and stood up. "Are you hungry? I can make breakfast."

Clark straightened as well as he dubiously asked, "You can?" Perhaps Lois had learned to cook in the six years he didn't know about.

Her eyes narrowed as she passed him to get inside, though he noticed she didn't contradict him. "Well, by making breakfast, I mean taking out a bowl and pouring cereal and milk," she said, placing her coffee mug on the counter before walking into the kitchen. She grabbed two bowls and a cereal box from the cupboards and then a milk carton from the refrigerator. "I have perfected the art of pouring, y'know."

"Really." Clark leaned forward with his elbows on the counter as he watched Lois grab two spoons out of the drawer. She then proceeded to pour the cereal.

"It's a delicate act, Smallville!" she said, flashing a quick glare at him. She started to carefully pour the milk into the first bowl. "Pour too much milk, the cereal gets soggy. Too little, then it's too dry and crunchy." She stopped pouring before the milk caused the cereal to rise to the very top. "Ah. Just the way I like it."

"This is yours," she said, taking the bowl and walking out to place it on the dining room table. She laid a spoon next to the bowl of crispy looking cereal. "Yes, this bowl is definitely Lois Lane-Kent approved."

He frowned. Why did that have such a nice ring to it? _Lane-Kent_.

Upon seeing his frown, Lois frowned as well, but she went about pouring her own bowl. Clark sat down at the table and waited for her. However, instead of joining him at the table, she sat on one of the barstools. She faced him and simply began eating, holding the bottom of the bowl with her right hand and using the spoon with her left. Silence settled over them with only the sounds of munching filling the air.

The quiet got to Lois faster than it did him because she cracked first. "Yesterday, I heard the news about a mysterious wind putting out the fire at that grocery store on 8th," she said, looking up from her bowl at him. "People thought it was Superman, but he didn't show his face…" She placed her spoon in her mouth as she contemplated him. Then she took it out and pointed it at his head. "That was you, wasn't it?"

He didn't meet her eyes. "I couldn't expose myself," he said. Just the thought of letting the public see his face brought back bad memories from the day before yesterday.

"_Oh_. That's right." Lois gulped down a couple more spoonfuls of honey oats, and then hopped off the barstool. She placed her bowl in front of Clark on the table. "Stay right there," she said, patting his shoulder as she passed him. "I'll get it."

"Get what?" he asked, confused.

Lois didn't hear him. She had already gone down the hallway by the time he turned around. What on earth was she talking about? He replayed their short conversation, but nothing stood out. Clark shook his head and went back to eating cereal.

"Ta-dah!"

Clark turned around. Then he blinked.

A proud smile graced Lois's lips. A red cape and yellow belt was draped over her right arm, while her left hand held up a mostly blue suit. "What do you think?"

Clark swallowed the spoonful of cereal he forgot about upon seeing the costume – _his_ costume, he realized – in Lois's hands.

"… I like the colors?"


	8. Attempt

**Free Fall  
**Author: Krys Yuy  
Summary: Clark isn't willing to risk his heart again. But when Fate gives him a glimpse into his future, the only question is – how hard will he fall?  
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Lois, Chloe/Bart, Oliver/Dinah, Bruce/Zatanna, Justice League  
Warning: Spoilers up to _Hex_.  
Rating: PG-13/T  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes only.  
Author's Notes: I hope you guys enjoy how I handled the suit in this chapter. I really tried to keep it in line with how SV!Clark would view it. I don't have much to say this time around, except sorry for the cliffhanger. Though I'm sure most of you aren't surprised there is one. Something feels a little off, but I did end this chapter how I always intended to, so… Well, I'll let you find out for yourself. And forgive me for any wrong facts about wetsuits and neoprene – I don't do any ocean-y activities at all!  
Thank you very much to each and every person who reviewed Chapter 7! Chapter 8 is dedicated to the following people: EdwardBella4ever17, Ellie, squeegeebob, Kairan1979, CamFan4Ever, Aaron Leach, f1ameseeker, cloisharley, DragonAngel21, xxxSmallvillexxx, Seersha, 25, Smallville-is-awesome, Ily18, Hakkyou Kuusou, Hittokiri, LaneKent4-ever, lady-bliss, and IrishUnicorn. You guys keep me going! Thank you for taking the time to review. If you leave a review and you have a FanfictionNet account, I will respond to you.  
Once again, this chapter is dedicated to my loyal reviewers. Feedback encourages me to keep writing. That's all there is to it. Thank you and I appreciate you each so much for your time. It lets me know you guys are still interested in this wild ride, whatever it ends up being. Without further adieu, please read, review and enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 8: Attempt

Lois deflated a bit at his lackluster response. "… you like the colors," she repeated dully.

Clark looked from the cape to the suit to the belt. "Red, blue and yellow," he said. "My three favorite colors." He hoped his smile didn't seem too unenthusiastic.

Lois's eyes narrowed. "That's all you have to say?" she asked.

Clark nodded, not meeting her gaze. He had a sneaking suspicion that Lois was going to make him try it on. Maybe if he didn't look her in the eye…

"Clark."

He winced at her no-nonsense tone. He slowly looked away from the suit to her face. "What?" he asked.

Lois draped the cape and belt over the back of the couch. She propped her now free hand against her hip, as she prompted, "Why don't you like the suit?" She sounded offended, and he thought carefully about his answer.

With her stare boring into him, Clark knew he wouldn't get away with a flimsy excuse. He looked again from her to the blue one-piece suit she held loosely in her left hand. He spoke as if the answer was quite obvious. "They're tights."

Lois went from disgruntled to amused with that one sentence. Comprehension lit her eyes even as she said, "They're not tights…" She shifted the costume from one hand to another and shrugged. "… exactly…"

Clark looked at her skeptically. "What are they, then?" he asked, tone challenging.

She picked at the material of the leg section innocently. "Tight-_looking_…" she replied.

He sighed. "Lois."

"What? You look amazing in it!" she exclaimed. Lois held up the bottom half of the suit pointedly. "And they're not tights! It's more like the material scuba divers wear."

Clark turned his whole chair around, so now he was sitting facing her. He crossed his arms. "… tights," he reaffirmed.

Lois brought the suit down to her side as she placed both hands on her hips. "Is this about your physique? Are you afraid to show it off? 'Cause let me tell you, you have _nothing_ to be bashful about," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Lois!"

She threw up her hands at his mortified expression. "You don't!" she declared, reaching out for his hands. "Try it on, and you'll see."

Clark reluctantly let her pull him out of his chair, but declined the offer. "No, thank you," he said.

Lois laid the costume down on the back of the couch in exchange for the long flowing cloth of red. "Not even the cape?" she said, holding it out enticingly.

Wear that silly thing? Was she kidding? Clark stared back blankly. "Especially not the cape," he replied. He wasn't a little kid.

She waved it back and forth, letting it flutter gently with her movements. "Why not?" she asked. "It's the best part." Her eyes took on a soft, far-away expression as she rubbed her right wrist.

He almost snapped his fingers in front of her face. Instead, Clark regarded the cape with a dubiously raised eyebrow. "It looks ridiculous," he stated aloud.

Lois's gaze snapped back to his as she frowned. Her hands dropped to her sides, the cape tucked under her arm. She stared at him for a long moment. "You have absolutely no sense of superhero style," she concluded a few seconds later. She roved a critical eye over his choice of clothing.

As Clark looked down at himself – what was wrong with jeans and a T-shirt? – Lois stated, "I suppose style in general." She sighed. "Why am I surprised? I dressed you for your first day at work."

He had style! Plenty of it, in fact. "You didn't dress me!" he protested, though he recalled her shoving him into a phone booth.

The right side of her mouth curved up in a knowing half-grin. "If I remember correctly, I got your big boy clothes from a co-worker. _You_ came to work in your 'nice' plaid shirt," she said, using air quotes.

He stood by the fact that there was nothing wrong with that shirt. It was perfectly presentable. "It _was_ a nice shirt," Clark defended, lips set in a stiff line.

Lois stared at him incredulously. Then she laughed, shaking her head. "Smallville, what would you do without me?"

Clark crossed his arms again, a bit sulky, as he murmured under his breath: "I'd be a lot less embarrassed, that's for sure."

"Just try it on," she ordered. Lois pushed the cape at him, but he refused to take it.

"No," he repeated. _No way, no how._ His current costume was fine. Easy to handle and not skintight. Why mess with what worked?

"Clark!"

Clark almost expected Lois to stomp her feet if he didn't now any better. "Lois," he replied pleasantly.

Being stubborn was typically a Lane trait, but a little known secret was that Kents had streaks just as long and fierce. They went about it more subtly, plus it all depended on the subject. And right now, he definitely had no intention of giving in.

Lois grit her teeth, frustration apparent. "Try it on once, and see how you look in it before you judge," she said.

While he was sure he wasn't going to give in, Lois obviously wasn't going to stop pestering him about it any time soon. He dug around his head for some other defense besides his own preferences.

"You're not supposed to show me anything from the future, right?" he pointed out. Ha! Something working in his favor. "Doesn't this –" He gestured from the cape in her hands to the one-piece costume on the couch. "– count?"

Lois didn't even blink. "You already know about 'Superman'. I didn't think it would hurt to look at the suit," she answered readily. She shook her head. "And I didn't think you would object this much."

Clark stepped closer to the couch, but not too close. He didn't want Lois to think he was giving in or anything. He studied the costume from a few feet away, deeming that a safe enough distance. It did look rather… formfitting. _Because they're tights,_ his mind supplied. _**Tight**__ tights._

He really wasn't going to let that go. "It doesn't look very comfortable," he finally said after several seconds.

"Have you ever gone to the beach to do anything but swim?" she asked. The random nature of the question almost had him scratching his head when she added, "What am I saying? I know you haven't." She laid the cape down next to the blue costume so her hands were free. "It's like wearing a wetsuit. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's what Mom bought for your prototype."

Clark started, eyes flicking over to meet Lois's. "Mom?" he echoed. He knew Lois's mother had already passed, but that meant…

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you've forgotten your mom," she said.

Truth be told, he had. Kind of. He hadn't thought of her since he arrived in the future. When his mother had moved to Washington, she was deemed 'safe' in his mind, away from all the craziness of Smallville. He never had cause to worry unless she called him directly. With her duties in the capital, how did she have time to make his costume? Was she still a senator?

There were so many questions, but only one stood out at the moment. It was more like an uncertainty, though. "_She_ designed my suit?" he asked doubtfully, giving the costume another once-over. He trusted his mother unconditionally. If she made it, then surely it wouldn't make him feel as inane as he expected it to.

Lois seemed to read his thoughts and she scowled. "Oh, so now that your mom vouched for it, it has more credibility?" she asked. "Did you think I made it?"

He chuckled. That hadn't even crossed his mind. "You don't sew," he stated sensibly.

She huffed. "I could have learned!" she protested. Her narrowed eyes cut him off in mid-scoff. "How would you know? You're six years in the future!"

Clark met her challenging stare. He patiently asked, "Do you know how to sew?"

Lois kept her eyes on his for a long while, but ended up looking away first. "… no," she grumbled.

He gave her a smug look.

Lois rolled her eyes. "What reporter needs to know how to sew, anyway?" She waved her hand in the air as if that would dismiss the actual action of sewing. "Since Mom made it, are you willing to try it on now?"

Lois called his mother 'Mom'. That was the second time already. Yet another thing he had to get used to. "…"

"What did she say it was? Nao- no, neo…" Lois bit her lip as she was prone to do when deep in thought. "Neopra- no… Neoprene! That's it!" she exclaimed. She grinned triumphantly and reached out to touch the material of the blue suit. "Neoprene is pretty comfortable, y'know."

Clark cocked his head to the side. "What's neoprene?" he asked.

Lois snapped her fingers. "Listen, Smallville! It's the stuff wetsuits are made of. That's what Mom used. She told us that," she explained. She brought her hands together and then drew them apart, mimicking a stretching motion. "It's like rubber… a 'synthetic polymer', if I remember the definition right."

A rubber suit? He didn't know if that was better or worse than tights. He straightened his head. "Huh."

"Just don't ask me to spell it."

Clark felt his resolve waver slightly as his eyes roamed over the blue costume, curiosity peeking its way through his conscious. He tried to swiftly shut down the impulse. "And how would you know neoprene is comfortable?" he asked.

"I like surfing," she said, surprising him. He never knew that. Lois picked up the costume and held it out to him. "So?"

It wouldn't hurt to get a closer look. Hesitating, Clark took the suit from her hands and fingered the material. "Hmm…" He turned it over and for the first time, noticed the shield adorned on the front. He had to admit, it looked rather striking against the blue background of the suit. He traced the raised 'S' with his index finger.

"Hope."

Startled to hear his thoughts voiced aloud, he looked up to find Lois smiling at him.

"It's the Kryptonian symbol for hope, right?" she asked. She stepped closer to him and he was too engrossed in studying the suit to become self-conscious.

"Yeah," Clark replied, voice low and subdued. "It is." He wondered briefly how she could know, but the answer came before the thought finished. He – _his future self_ – had told her. There seemed to be nothing he – _his future self,_ he corrected again firmly – wouldn't share with this woman.

The other times he saw the symbol flashed through his mind, shown to him in what was a dark void, save for the light and wind whirling up and down his body. His mind turned from thoughts of how and where, directing itself instead to the emblem's other meaning.

"It's also my family crest," he added quietly.

Lois placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's beautiful," she commented just as softly. There was no untruth in her tone, no hint of a white lie. She was honestly moved by something from his Kryptonian heritage. It touched the portion of him he constantly shied away from, the part he often hated, the part that felt alienated because of his origins.

The ledge he had staunchly tried to ignore materialized in his mind again. Another step.

Clark didn't look at her as he murmured, "Thanks." He held up the suit and looked at it from top to bottom.

The costume was a full one-piece suit, collar-less and the majority of the color a vibrant blue. The other color was a deep red, which was cut in a short Y-shape reminiscent of briefs. If he chose to wear the suit, the red would cover that section of his body exactly. Pinching the fabric, he confirmed what Lois said about it not being tights. Relief registered somewhere in the back of his mind. He knew his clothing preferences in the future couldn't have altered that much. It didn't feel like nylon or cotton beneath his fingers; it was the neoprene Lois mentioned. It was thinner than he expected it to be, but still thicker than tights. The sleeves of the suit cut off at the wrists and the legs at the ankles. There was a zipper on the backside that ran from the top to the middle of the back. The seams were practically invisible, a testament to his mother's sewing skills. Red belt loops were attached along the top of the briefs-shaped section, which would allow for him to wind the yellow belt around his waist.

Emblazoned on the chest of his costume was his family crest. The 'S' was a deep red, and the vivid color also outlined the diamond symbol. The only other yellow of the costume was the negative space around the 'S' inside the shield. The emblem was raised slightly above the blue of his suit, made up of something a bit tougher than neoprene. He ran his hand along the edge of the collar-less section and felt two flat latches sewn under either side of where his neck would be. He assumed that was where his cape would be attached.

Clark confirmed his supposition when he carefully laid the suit over the back of the furniture in exchange for the cape. He found matching fasteners on two corners of the flowing red cloth. He turned the material over in his hands, and found it to be thinner and lighter than even the blue suit. The cape was simply a rich red with no other designs or symbols marring its surface. He picked up the belt with his right hand as he set the cape down again. Running his hand along the smooth metal, he noted that the yellow was a bit darker than the normal bright shade of the color, more like a mustard hue. The belt buckle was in the shape of the House of El family crest, the edges raised and the spaces between the 'S' and the outline of the diamond the same bold red as his cape. He deposited the belt on the sofa and took a step back.

The blue one-piece suit, the red cape, and the yellow belt lay side by side on the back of the couch. Clark took in each and every detail. All in all, he admitted it was a rather impressive costume.

Clark looked at Lois to find her staring at him, a gentle expression on her face. Sometime during his examination, she had taken her hand off his shoulder, but from the way she was gazing at him, he knew she had watched him the entire time.

Uncomfortable at how much that actually didn't bother him, he concentrated once more on the suit. He gestured towards the legs section of it and asked, "I don't go barefoot in this, do I?"

Her gentleness leveled out into her usual amusement. She shook her head with a grin. "No, you have boots that go with it," she answered.

He remembered the picture from the article he found at his desk. "Red, right?"

"Yep. Red boots to go with your red cape," Lois replied, indicating the size with her hands. "Almost like combat boots, but custom made. Leather-type material. They're in the closet." She made a vague gesture in the direction of the bedroom.

While his mother was a master at sewing and creating clothes from bolts of fabrics, her skills didn't extend to shoemaking. Unless she had taken up a new hobby alongside her duties in the Capitol building. "From where?" he asked.

"Oliver and Bruce know," Lois answered. She shrugged, indicating that she had more important things to worry about than the maker of his boots. "I never did ask."

"There's someone out there who specializes in this kind of thing?" he asked. Clark found it hard to picture a person who designed custom-made accessories for superheroes.

Lois seemed more accustomed to the idea as she casually answered, "You never know who those two have on retainer." She looked from him to the costume several times. "So, do you need a phone booth to change in?"

His fingers twitched towards the suit. Clark quickly curled his hand into a fist. Surely his mother and Lois wouldn't let him go around in something that made him look silly. Lois, maybe. His mother, though? Never. Plus he had to confess his curiosity was growing. _Was_ it comfortable? And from the hushed whispers and anticipating looks of the public, Superman was an impressive figure, not a comical one. It was like the night when he had asked Oliver and Chloe to help him throw Jimmy off his trail.

There was no fear. Only hope.

Clark was startled from his reverie by Lois's excited cry. "Yes!" she exclaimed.

He turned his head and saw Lois beaming at him. "I didn't agree yet!" he said hastily, backpedaling.

"You didn't have to. Your face said everything," she replied. Her smile curved into a Cheshire cat grin as her eyes glinted mischievously. "Let's go find that phone booth!"

Clark sighed.

Before he wondered how exactly he was supposed to go about putting the costume on, the phone rang. _Saved!_

"I'll get it," he offered, eager for a distraction. He jumped at the phone on the bar counter as Lois opened her mouth to protest. Normally, he wouldn't go around answering other people's phones, but it was technically his apartment. Plus he really, really wanted to put off wearing the suit.

"Lane-Kent residence," he said. He pretended not to notice Lois nearly pouting in the corner of his vision.

"You shouldn't be answering the phone," replied a smooth voice.

Clark held the receiver out to Lois. "It's Bruce." The dark haired billionaire managed to set off Clark's defenses with only his tone and a few words.

She took the phone from him and placed her hand over the mouthpiece. "You're only delaying the inevitable," she pointed out.

He shrugged, simply thankful for the respite, and sat back down at the table to finish his now soggy cereal.

Lois rolled her eyes at his response as she took her hand off the receiver. She started talking and Clark began to inconspicuously listen in.

"What do you want, Bruce?" she asked. Her voice was cool and professional, but Clark noted its hint of agitation.

"You're sounding lovely as ever, Lois," Bruce replied drolly.

"No sleep does wonders for a person's social skills," she retorted. She was in no mood to chitchat. "Why did you call?"

"Bring Clark to the Clock Tower at two o'clock."

Lois prodded, "And then?"

Bruce replied as if the answer was obvious. "Zatanna works her magic."

"_Or we could just send him back now."_

Clark recalled Bruce's parting words the night before and the billionaire's sidelong glance at the black haired mistress of magic. _They're really eager to be rid of me._ His own feelings only supported his wry observation. He was ready to go home as well. Things in the future were too different. Too altered for him to make real sense of anything. He had to get back to where up was up and down was down.

While Clark wasn't looking at her, he knew Lois's lips were pursed and her eyes were drawn together in displeasure by her tone. "Sending him back doesn't necessarily mean it'll bring my Clark back," she said.

"We have to assume so, since this Clark is in our Clark's body."

Bruce was more observant than Clark initially gave him credit for. He ran his conversation with the two suspicious JL members in his head, and realized he had never repeated what he told Lois about being in the body of his future self.

Apparently though, Lois forgot that tidbit of information as her widened eyes darted to his. He nodded in response to her unasked question. Her gaze roamed over his face and she bit her lip, tilting her head. Seconds later, she groaned and pressed a hand to her forehead.

"… ugh. My head is not liking this at all," she said, wincing.

"Bring him to the tower and we can fix this whole mess," Bruce instructed.

Lois closed her eyes. "…"

From her pause, Bruce knew she wasn't exactly pleased. "Lois, this is the most immediate solution," he said in what Clark assumed was supposed to be his placating voice. "We all want to resolve this as soon as possible."

"I heard you," Lois said tersely. "We'll be there." She hung up.

Clark waited for her to say something, but she remained silent for a few moments longer. Then she gave her hair a good tug in frustration.

"Agh!" Her footsteps treaded heavily as she disappeared down the hallway.

Clark watched her go and listened as she entered her bedroom. Everything was quiet. Concerned, he left his mushy cereal behind with a mental memo to clean up later, and followed her. He found her face down on the bed, arms crossed above her head on a pillow. She wasn't crying, but she wasn't raving either.

He didn't want to invade her privacy, but he couldn't leave her alone. Worried, he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

There was a long pause and then her muffled voice answered.

"What?" he asked.

Lois lifted her head and moved her arms so her chin could rest on her crossed wrists. She stared at the headboard of the bed. "I've been running through it over and over since last night. But I can't recall anything unusual."

Clark had a vague suspicion as to what she referring to, but prompted anyway. "It?"

Lois turned over, her hair spreading out like a halo around her. Her gaze fastened on the ceiling as she said, "The day before yesterday."

_The day before you came._

Clark heard her unuttered words and guilt stung him again. However, knowing Lois wouldn't take too kindly to him wallowing, he forced the emotion down as far as he could. If he wanted to make things right for her, he had to act. Investigate.

Clark sat on the desk chair by the computer in the corner, and rolled it towards the edge of the bed. "Tell me," he requested.

Lois stared at the ceiling some more, as if she were weighing options in her head. She seemed to have made her decision when she pushed herself up on her elbows and met his eyes. "It was just an ordinary day," she said. "Nothing different happened."

"Go through it again. Step by step," Clark said, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees and his hands clasped together.

Lois scooted back on the mattress and sat up, crossing her legs. She reclined against the headboard. Not once did she look away from him. "Yo- Clark woke me up in time to get ready for work," she began. "We went through our usual morning routine – me attempting to make breakfast, him fixing my breakfast, and then our walk to the Daily Planet. We grabbed two coffees at the cart outside and then headed in. Perry held the morning staff meeting and we updated him on the status of our articles. Your- _his_ with the power plants in the Philippines and mine with the string of small bank robberies on the outskirts of Metropolis…"

Lois continued on, recounting the day with an odd sort of nostalgia, though it had only been a little more than twenty-four hours prior. While he already planned on paying careful attention to everything she said, Clark found himself getting lost easily in words and scenarios that would have bored anyone else. She described the day so factually, but no one could deny the affection in her tone. She was happy with her life. She mentioned only first names and her details, if there were any, were brief and to the point. Lois talked about co-workers he knew and those he would know, about an article he would research and work on, about times he would leave as Superman, only to come back to work that day as Clark Kent. It seemed like another life.

_But that's just it,_ his mind whispered to him. _This __**is**__ your life._

Lois was no longer looking at him. She had turned slightly so her whole left side was leaning on the headboard, both knees bent up. Her fingers traced the delicate curves and twists in the wood he would one day carve himself. The words flowed from her mouth, her mind clearly immersed in the events of that day.

"I was chasing down a lead and Clark was up in the clubhouse with all the other heroes well into the evening. He didn't return to me until late, and we fell asleep after..." she trailed off.

"After?"

Her index finger circled up and over the same peculiar flower etching again and again. She looked over at him, and her cheeks were dusted a light pink as she said, "After a certain endorphin-inducing activity."

"_Or, there's another kind of activity two people share, repetitive motion… builds to a climax…" _

His Lois's teasing words came back to him. "Oh." He coughed.

Lois smiled at his reaction and seemed to take great pleasure in his flushed cheeks. She murmured something to herself, but he was too distracted by his embarrassment to hear her properly.

Clark centered his thoughts on the mystery of the whereabouts of his future self and away from musings of tangled sheets and bare skin. Nothing stood out to him from Lois's review of her day, and he understood why she was so frustrated. No clues equaled no leads. No leads equaled dead ends.

"Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary in your schedule?" he asked. He already knew the answer, but another confirmation couldn't hurt.

It could apparently annoy though, if Lois's glare said anything. "Same old, same old," she replied.

While it wasn't the 'same old' thing to him, Clark had to admit there wasn't anything that stood out from what appeared to be a routine day. The key lay in the lost hours his future self spent as Superman. While Lois was unmistakably a close confidante, she wasn't given an all-access pass to superhero dealings.

"We're going to need to talk to Ollie," Lois said aloud, voicing his thoughts for him.

Evidently, she still retained that strange ability of staying one step ahead of him when it came to investigations. "Plus whoever else your husband had contact with in the League," Clark added. He straightened in his seat. "Let's go."

Lois blinked, her fingers paused in their tracing. "Now?" He nodded and she continued, "Well, what are we waiting for?"

Lois jumped up from her huddled position and bounced towards him on the mattress. Her last bounce was a little too big and he scrambled to stand up, the chair rolling behind him. He caught her around the waist and her legs wrapped themselves around his hips, her arms loosely around his neck. He looked up at her and she smiled down at him. Then she gave his forehead a brief kiss.

_What the-?_ Clark loosened his hold, shocked at how much that brief contact sent a jolt of warmth through him. Lois took the opportunity to drop down to the ground. She walked away and he heard sounds of her rummaging through the closet. Clark pressed a few fingers against the spot she kissed. By the time he emerged from his stupor, she was tying the laces of her sneakers.

She saw him staring and she patted her shoes. "Much better to run in," she commented offhandedly.

"Are you planning on running from anything in particular?" he asked, trying to get his mind to focus. He caught the boots she tossed to him.

He put them on as she replied, "No. It's just good to be prepared." Lois grabbed his upper arm just as he finished lacing his boots and pulled him along.

When they reached the living room, Lois let go and picked up the three pieces of his costume. She held them out to him and he shook his head.

Lois rolled her eyes. "Spoilsport," she muttered. She took the costume and brushed past him and back to the hallway.

Clark didn't follow her, but assumed she was going to put it away. His guess was confirmed as he spotted, through the walls, Lois opening up the closet. What he didn't expect was her reaching up in the closet and above the frame. She pressed something and to his astonishment, the insides of the closet slid back and then apart, separating perfectly in the middle. Lois hung up the suit, cape and belt on separate hooks on the wall. He noticed a few pairs of red boots on a lower shelf before he looked away.

That hidden chamber couldn't be a feature of all the apartments in the building. Lois appeared in front of him a moment later, and he asked, "So, is that secret compartment an option in the floor plan?"

Lois didn't even pause to question what he was talking about. She picked his glasses off the coffee table and handed them to him. He looked at them doubtfully but slid them on as she replied, "This building is owned by a smaller company under Queen Industries. Ollie pulled a string or two, and Victor helped out with the design." She grabbed his hand and started leading him towards the balcony. "Only you and I can open it."

"Huh." Clark looked again at the closet with his x-ray vision. When he turned back, he found he was already outside. He yelped when Lois jumped at him sideways and this time he caught her with an arm under her knees and one around her back.

Clark frowned at her even as his hold tightened. "You have to stop doing that," he said.

Lois winked, entwining her arms around his neck. "No promises," she replied. She lightly tapped the back of his head. "Let's get out of here. We have some Leaguers to interrogate."

"Um, Lois…"

She looked at him expectantly and then at the clouds. "What are you waiting for, Smallville?" she asked. She lifted up her left hand as a fist pointing to the sky. "Up, up and away!"

"_Lois_…"

"What?" she asked, looking back at him.

Clark fidgeted under her stare. Suddenly, with her trusting eyes focused solely on him, he was unable to admit his shortcoming to her – this woman who seemed to believe he could do anything. He had never wanted any of his abilities, was never truly excited when a new one would manifest itself. Each unique power only felt like another weight upon his shoulders. However, he had learned to accept them over time, and he was thankful when they helped him save those he loved and nowadays, the people of Metropolis, too. Still, that didn't mean he wanted another power. With the vast array already at his disposal, he certainly didn't need one.

Lois seemed to believe him capable of moving worlds. He had seen that despite the short time he had been in the future. He was not oblivious to the way she saw him. It was the way she saw her husband. He was nothing more than a poor stand-in. But now, with a beautiful hazel gaze centered on him, he wanted that special power, the exceptional one that lay among what was already extraordinary.

Never had he wished so much for the ability to fly.

"Clark?"

Her voice brought him out of his brooding. He met her eyes, but couldn't say anything. She smiled at him, though it was a little uncertain, and lightly rapped his forehead.

"What's the matter?" she asked. "Shouldn't I be touching a cloud by now?"

Her genuine confusion had him ducking his head again.

"Hey, look at me." Lois curled her hand under his chin and lifted it, forcing his gaze up. "What is it?" she asked, concerned.

_I can't say it. Don't make me say it._ His eyes pleaded with hers until understanding dawned a moment later.

"Oh _crap_."

–

"What do you mean you _can't_ fly?!"

"He's been moonlighting as a paper boy," Lois snapped, hands on her hips. "Honestly Ollie, what is so hard to understand?"

Clark stood rigidly to the side as Oliver and Lois squabbled with each other. The three of them were standing in the center of Oliver's loft, while Zatanna was on the platform, leaning against the panel hiding the billionaire's Green Arrow equipment. Unlike Clark who was paying attention to the other two, Zatanna's eyes were focused on the floor beneath her. She muttered to herself, completely absorbed in her own world.

Well, he was clearly on his own. Clark tried to get a word in. "Look, guys –"

"Forgive me for being a little surprised that _Superman_ can't fly," Oliver retorted, pulling at the cuffs of his white button up shirt. Black slacks and sleek black oxford shoes completed the casual look of a man worth billions. "Next thing you know, I'll be shooting sticks instead of arrows!"

"An arrow is like a stick," Lois commented, crossing her arms.

Oliver groaned, bringing a hand up to his forehead. "That's not the point," he said.

"There is no point at all," Clark interrupted firmly. Lois and Oliver turned to him as he continued, "Me not being able to fly doesn't matter. You wanted to send me back today, right?"

"Where is Bruce, anyway?" Lois asked, looking around for the missing Wayne CEO.

"He got a call," Oliver said. "He had to follow up on something in Gotham."

Lois's ears perked up. "Anything the public needs to know?" she asked. "Like, a Wayne Enterprises crisis or a criminal crisis?"

"Let the Gotham Gazette take care of it," Oliver stated. He ignored Lois's glower. "Besides, he'll be back around two."

"Is that why he wanted us to come here then?" Lois asked.

"Should I be flattered that he wants to wish me a personal goodbye?" Clark added dryly.

"Frankly, you should be happy. He'd be giving you a tougher time about not flying," Oliver said.

"I'm ready."

Everyone turned their heads to look at Zatanna, who looked perfectly alluring in a black mini-skirt, maroon halter top, and black leather jacket. Her matching knee-high boots made her legs seem even longer. She leaned forward with both hands on the railing of the platform.

Oliver walked up to Clark and patted his shoulder. "Guess you're going to have to go without that goodbye, though I'm sure Zee has a kiss from him to you," he commented.

Zatanna brought a finger to her lips. "I'll never tell."

"Ha, ha." Clark rolled his eyes. "So, you're both absolutely sure that my, umm, future self didn't have any unusual saves that day?" he asked once more, changing the subject. They were ready to send him back, but something didn't sit right with him. He was missing something.

"Like we said, it was relatively quiet," Zatanna replied.

"Clark only checked in once to talk about that mission," Oliver said. "And that day, it was all petty crimes. Not even a natural disaster. He didn't come across any of our more… eccentric… villains."

Clark didn't like where this was going. He was eliminating everything from his future self's side, which only brought it back to –

"You." Lois peered up at him. "Are you sure you're not forgetting something?"

He shook his head in the negative. "I didn't do anything except reverse time, and I already destroyed the Legion ring," he said, unable to come up with anything new.

"All the bases we already covered," Oliver said. "It can't be a delayed reaction."

Lois sighed. "I'm no good at this scientific theory stuff. Give me a criminal to shake down any day," she said wistfully.

Did she always have to be on the lookout for trouble? "You're not a cop, Lois," Clark reminded her, frowning.

She waved her hand in the air dismissively. "I'm an investigative reporter and army brat. One lethal combination," she said.

"You're telling me," Oliver muttered, rubbing his shoulder. Clark wasn't sure if it was still hurting or if his friend was just reliving the memory.

"Are you ready?" Zatanna asked, looking directly at him.

He nodded, though he noticed she seemed a bit tense. He returned the question in kind. "Are you?" he asked softly.

She smiled reassuringly. "Yes," she said. "I just don't often do a spell of this magnitude. That's why I was chanting earlier. It centers me."

"Should we do it now then?" he replied. He didn't want her to lose focus and have to meditate again. He felt a touch upon his shoulder and looked down at Lois's worried face.

"Are you sure?" she asked quietly. "We still don't know why you were sent here."

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he replied. _I don't belong here, anyway._ "Bruce and Oliver are probably right – there must have been a switch of some kind. This will work and he'll be back with you."

Lois squeezed his hand. "Stick to your guns, Smallville," she said. She rested her palm against his cheek. "You have to trust yourself."

Clark nodded. "Thanks for everything," he said. He allowed himself a small moment of indulgence and leaned into her touch. _It would be so easy…_ He straightened and stepped back. "See you."

"Not if I see you first," Lois replied. She stepped back as well and she leaned gratefully against Oliver when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Zatanna led Clark up to the center of the platform. "Stay right here," she instructed.

He nodded again and watched her go. Zatanna stopped at the base of the stairs and turned around to face him. Oliver and Lois stood behind her by the couches. Oliver's face didn't reveal anything. Lois, however, seemed a little more anxious. She smiled, though, when she realized he was looking at her.

Clark didn't bother looking anywhere else. He kept his eyes on Lois. He heard Zatanna somewhere in the background and vaguely registered the crack of thunder on what was a sunny day.

"Eerf siht drawyaw luos!" Zatanna cried. "Dnes mih kcab ot sih lufthgir ecalp ni emit dna ecaps!"

Pain ripped through his chest then and Clark fell to his knees, unable to stifle his screams.


	9. Complication

**Free Fall**  
Author: Krys Yuy  
Summary: Clark isn't willing to risk his heart again. But when Fate gives him a glimpse into his future, the only question is – how hard will he fall?  
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Lois, Chloe/Bart, Oliver/Dinah, Bruce/Zatanna, Justice League  
Warning: Spoilers up to _Hex_.  
Rating: PG-13/T  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes only.  
Author's Notes: More than a month between updates! Yikes. One reason for that was Comic-Con – it was my first time going this year, so I was scrambling with that. My other reason is – well, I was writing other stuff! If you haven't checked out my two newest Clois one-shots, please do. Readers may be particularly interested in _Popsicle Soup_ as it takes place in the _Free Fall_ universe. A little fluff piece between future!Clark and future!Lois when they were dating. My other story is _Unfamiliar_ – a look into Clark's head during the dunk scene in the season 4 episode, _Façade_.Anyways, what to say about this chapter. A lot going on. I hope some of you are paying particularly close attention. Everything in this chapter is in here for a reason. I also realize I left you guys on a particularly frustrating cliffhanger. Good news – no cliffhanger this chapter! I kinda tried something new this time around too so I hope it doesn't confuse anyone…  
Thank you very much to each and every person who reviewed Chapter 8! Chapter 9 is dedicated to the following people: EdwardBella4ever17, huddytilidie, Seersha, Lox'd, xxxTwilightDawnxxx, semrawr, Ellie, cloisharley, Taigrin Dido, LaneKent4-ever, squeegeebob, Aaron Leach, Smallville-is-awesome, Ily18, reeven, daydreamer10101, 1eclecticreader, Dannie Tomlinson, Hittokiri, AdriGoddess, icesk8er93, f1ameseeker, loveiscomplicated, Hakkyou Kuusou, Raven3182, Tispower, BB, and jamie. Thank you so much for taking the time to review! If you leave a review and you have a FanfictionNet account, I will respond to you. I know I haven't responded to Chapter 8 reviewers yet, but I will! I figured you guys have waited long enough, so I decided to post first. I guess I'll let you get started reading then. And please leave a review if you are so inclined. It would mean a lot.  
Big huge THANKS to my awesome reviewers and readers! Hope you guys haven't forgotten about this story. ;) So, without further adieu, please read, review, and enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 9: Complication

_Oh __**god**__._

Clark tried to hold in his screams, but the pain was so great he couldn't keep it in. Every nerve ending was on fire, burning him from the inside out. The intense heat blanketing his skin suddenly pulled back and centered in the middle of his chest. He fell forward on his hands, drawing into himself as he now struggled to breathe.

A sensation he recognized as magic tugged at him, trying to unearth him. But it seemed his core, his very being was rooted to the ground, refusing to budge.

This was nothing like kryptonite, where his lungs constricted and a fever broke out. The radioactive meteor rock paralyzed him, all his joints locking up and muscles seizing. That pain he could handle, even endure if he had to.

But this – this was _unbearable_.

It was more than crippling him and blocking a necessity to breathe. The magic wanted to take him away, fought against something else wanting to keep him. The conflict born from this threatened to rip him apart. It tore into his insides, pulling him in all directions. What felt like hands grabbed at the center of his chest and yanked.

On his hands and knees, Clark screamed his anguish.

Magic was forcing him to go. It called to him, telling him it was time. He had to return to his rightful place. Back where everything made sense. But no… he wasn't ready at all. He wasn't ready, wasn't ready –

_I'm not ready to leave yet!_

Clark grit his teeth even as his head ducked down to touch the ground. Something more powerful compelled him to stay, no matter how much the magic insisted.

Through his haze of pain, he barely registered the panicked voices in the background. One in particular sounded distressed, somehow increasing his own pain.

"I told you to stop! You're hurting him! Stop!"

"_What are you doing?! You're killing him!"_

Echoes of her voice, present and past melded together, resounding in his ears. He knew that voice. He knew her.

_Lois._

The thumping of his heart rumbled through his body. He curled into himself on his side, hoping to concentrate the pain in one area. There was no relief – only the same unfathomable ache deep in his chest.

"I did! I don't know why –"

"Stop, Lois! Who knows what'll happen if you go near him?"

"Let go of me!"

Sounds of a struggle reached his ears, but seconds later, soft hands pressed against his face and pushed his hair away from his sweaty forehead. The pain receded almost instantaneously, and his limbs slackened, unlocking themselves.

"Relax, sweetheart." A whisper of a kiss against his forehead.

Clark loosened completely beneath the tender touch and let himself sink into the black oblivion of unconsciousness.

–

Dreaming. He must be dreaming.

Clark stood in a white void, completely alone. He looked to the front and to the back, but it was colorless all around. He stepped forward tentatively. When nothing disastrous happened, he took another step and then another. He started walking with no real destination in mind. Everything stayed the same no matter how long he walked or which direction he went. Direction was a moot point in this dreamscape.

Clark stopped in his tracks as a three-dimensional image began to shimmer in his path. A feminine shape with an ethereal glow formed and he recognized her immediately. Lois stood before him, hazel eyes bright and locks of dark brown hair shining. He didn't know how he knew, but this was the Lois from the future. However, her image was hazy along the edges and she seemed to be looking through him.

He turned around to see what she could possibly be looking at, but saw nothing except the same white space. When his gaze swiveled back, he was alarmed to see the image of Lois flickering. She began flashing through several expressions, hairstyles and outfits faster and faster until she simply became one blinking blur.

Clark reached for her, but pulled back in surprise as his hand passed through her shape. Immediately, she stopped flickering as if his touch was all the permission she needed. He stared at his hand and then at her as she began to move.

Lois stretched out her hand and for a moment, it disappeared in front of her. When she drew it back, she held a simple silver ring dotted with three diamonds on the top. She stared at it, speechless, but the corners of her lips quirked up as her gaze turned to him.

"Is this a hint that you wanna make an honest woman out of me? 'Cause you're a little late, Smallville."

Clark blinked, but before he could process exactly what he was seeing, Lois's image flickered again. Her expression changed to curious with that hint of mischief that never seemed far behind.

"What color underwear am I wearing?"

He balked. What kind of dream was this? There was no time to think as Lois changed yet again. This time the scenery transformed as well. Before he knew it, he was standing on the wrap-around porch of his house, though the edges of the setting still dissolved into the white void, a reminder that something wasn't right.

Lois tensed in front of him, her hair up in a ponytail, as she balanced on the balls of her feet. "I'm faster than you."

Clark was startled when an image of himself emerged from his body and stepped in front of him. He moved to the side to get a better angle as his doppelganger smirked and asked, "You think so?"

She lifted her hands in front of her, and they were covered in varying colors of some kind of sticky substance. "I _know_ so."

The future Lois began to look more and more like his Lois. Her flickering started and then paused again as did his double's. She looked absolutely furious and just a bit frustrated as she exclaimed, "Stop making me fall in love with you!"

Clark was sure the gobsmacked expression on his duplicate's face was mirrored on his own. Then the image of himself fluttered with the scenery and suddenly, he was wearing frayed and dusty clothes, looking a little the worse for wear. He clutched an unconscious Lois to him and his relief was palpable.

"I will never let you out of my sight again."

The pure depth of exhaustion and relief on his double's countenance astounded him. Confused, but more than fascinated, Clark could only watch as his double and Lois flickered again and again. The background automatically altered itself to fit wherever their interactions took place. Clark began to have an inkling of what was going on, but instead of analyzing it further, he found himself wanting to witness more of the revealing conversations between his twin and Lois.

His double pleaded with a stubborn Lois whose back was turned to him. "Don't go out tonight."

She turned around and regarded him carefully. "Give me a reason."

Clark recognized the inner struggle on his face. Then his twin simply requested, "Trust me."

The backdrop remained at the Daily Planet, but their clothes changed and Clark knew it was once again a different scenario. Lois raged in front of him, pacing back and forth. "She's not at home and she's not answering her cell!"

His double stopped her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'll find her," he promised.

The serious tone of the past flickers faded as his twin's face smoothed into a teasing expression. A phone materialized in the air as he held it between his ear and shoulder. He sat down and typed at his computer. "Don't get overenthusiastic about your lead," he advised.

Lois's voice came over the phone. "I promise nothing."

With the next change, his image and Lois were sitting in the back of a parked ambulance. Clark was surprised to see the one getting treated was himself, though he noted his double was insisting he could patch himself up to the EMT.

Lois hovered near him, wearing a large trench coat. It opened slightly in the middle with the movements of Lois's pacing and Clark had a glimpse of skintight leather. Huh. "I can't believe you! You stupid, stupid –"

His twin nodded at the EMT's insistence he go to a hospital, though his focus was really on Lois. "I would do it again." Do what again?

She paused, rubbing at her eyes. "Like I said. Stupid."

Another flicker. The backdrop altered itself to the Daily Planet again. Lois scribbled something in a notepad before typing madly on her keyboard. She glanced over at his counterpart, who was staring pensively at his computer screen. "Work waits for no one, Smallville."

He met her eyes and looked away. "I just…"

She leaned forward. "What's wrong?"

The image of Lois kept on flickering as his double stopped. He supersped into his house and sat down on the couch. "Yes, Lois? What can I do for you on this fourth phone call?"

"This is only the second time I've called!" her voice replied indignantly.

He shrugged off his jacket and made himself comfortable. "I think you need to learn your numbers again."

His image flickered and this time he was standing in the kitchen of his house. "I'm fine. It's okay."

"Okay? Okay?!" Lois exploded, clutching at the edge of the island. Though she looked physically drained of any energy with her red-rimmed eyes and mussed hair, she seemed to have enough to ream him. "You were in an exploding airplane! That is not _okay_!"

For the first time, Clark recognized the scenario change as they were transported to the staircase of the Daily Planet. He remembered it as if it only happened hours ago. His image was drenched from the rain as he stared down at Lois, who was looking back with an air of nonchalance. Her expression seemed out of place, considering the complications that had just been raised between them.

"I'm gonna work off my jet lag later on tonight at the café," she said, as if it were easy to deal with the sudden questions about their friendship. "If you want to come by for a coffee, cool. If not, let's just say I get it."

His double nodded, and Clark knew his mind was working a mile a minute behind that neutral expression. "Okay."

No, this was not a dream.

_Memories?_

Clark brought up his hand, watching as it began to flicker, too.

_Not __**my**__ memories._

–

"No, that's it! No more spells!"

Yelling somewhere in the distance pierced the fog clouding Clark's mind. It roused him from his deep immersion in what he assumed were memories. Memories that didn't belong to him. Not yet, anyway. Even then, it still felt like he viewed something he wasn't supposed to be privy to. Disoriented, he turned his head from side to side slowly and discovered he was on the couch in Oliver's loft.

"The longer he stays here, the greater the possibilities grow that something's goes wrong." The stern and calm voice in the face of Lois's wrath could only be one person. Bruce must have already returned from Gotham.

"Something already went wrong! I'll find another way, just no more magic," Lois stated firmly. Her voice brooked no room for argument. "He will not go through that again."

"Lois…" Zatanna sounded horribly regretful. "You know I never meant to hurt him."

"But you did!" Lois snapped, and even Clark winced though her ire wasn't directed at him. There were several tense seconds of silence and then Lois took a long, deep breath. Her next words were quieter and Clark wouldn't have heard her without his super hearing. "… I'm sorry, Zee. I know. God, I know. But _this_… I can't stand this."

The pain in her voice spurred Clark into action. He pushed himself up with minimal difficulty. Any residual pain was fast becoming a memory, especially with the scattered rays of sunlight beaming across his back through Oliver's ceiling to floor windows.

"Lois," he said, throat dry and scratchy. He meant for his call to come out stronger than that. He frowned and clutched the back of the couch with one arm.

Lois's eyes snapped to his. "Clark!" The utter relief visible on her face sent something warm fluttering in his chest. She rushed down the steps of the raised platform and over to the couch, kneeling next to him.

Lois grabbed one of his hands and reached out with her other to lightly graze his cheek. "Oh Clark," she repeated, looking him over from head to toe. Her gaze was so intense that if Clark didn't know better, he would have thought she was x-raying him. He paused. Then again… this future was already present with all sorts of anomalies.

Clark leaned forward a bit and Lois was quick to steady him. Before she could get a word out, he whispered, "Lois… you don't happen to have… any powers, do you?"

Amusement briefly broke through her concern. "Like what?" she murmured back.

Heedful of the three other people lingering in the back of the room, Clark bent even closer so his lips were close to her ear. "X-ray vision?" he asked. Now that he said it aloud, the notion seemed sillier than it had in his head.

Embarrassment colored his cheeks when Lois laughed and ducked her forehead so it lay in the crook of his neck and shoulder. Her breath tickled his collarbone. "I have the power to write one damn good story. Not to mention the ability to affect a certain Superman," she said. "But sorry – no x-ray vision."

"Oh." He felt even more foolish. Of course Lois didn't have powers! She was human. Clark shook his head and her hair slid under his chin.

Lois's laugh died down. "Are you okay?" she whispered against his neck.

"I'm fine," he replied. Her arms encircled him tightly and he wanted to comfort her somehow. So, he did the same, pulling her close. "It's okay."

Her fingers curled into the hairs at the nape of his neck. She didn't say anything for several seconds before she leaned back. "Are you sure?" she asked.

Clark smiled reassuringly. Gently, he took her arms and moved them so that he could grasp her hands in his lap. "I won't attempt another time jump by spell any time soon," he replied. "Other than that, I'm fine."

Lois smiled in return, though she was obviously still a bit skeptical.

"Clark, I'm so sorry!"

He looked up to find Zatanna standing behind the edge of the couch. She clutched at the bottom of her leather jacket, her expression earnest and stricken. "It was never supposed to hurt you like that," she said. She looked like she wanted to step forward, but she kept her distance. "I did everything by the book, and –" She clenched her fists. "It was supposed to be safe. I made sure of it."

"It's not your fault," he said, meaning every word of it. How could she have known? "I know you wouldn't hurt me."

The guilt in Zatanna's expression lessened somewhat, though her frown remained behind. "I appreciate your vote of confidence, given how short we've known each other," she said, "and I _know_ I did the spell right." She crossed her arms, hands gripping her elbows. "Instead of sitting here, you should be back in your own time, unharmed and in one piece."

"Since he obviously isn't, do you have any ideas what went wrong?" Lois asked, her hands squeezing Clark's.

Bruce came up behind Zatanna and wrapped a casual arm around her waist. He looked every inch the heir to a major corporation in a stylish black two-piece business suit, complete with navy tie. "It wasn't on our end," he replied.

"If not the spell, then…" Lois turned to look between Bruce and Zatanna. "You're not suggesting…" She trailed off, but her narrowed eyes said she suspected something.

Clark was lost. "What?"

Zatanna walked around to the opposite side of the couch from where Lois was sitting. She crouched down and placed her arms along the back of the furniture, looking him in the eye. "Depending on the spell, my magic deals not only with the physical form, but the spiritual as well," she explained. "As you are not in your body, my spell was cast so that I could free your soul and subsequently lead you back where you belong."

Clark nodded. "I'm following you so far."

"My magic is strong," Zatanna went on, "and it is rare when I encounter a soul who can reject my power."

"Reject?" Clark repeated, puzzled. "I'm susceptible to magic. How can I reject it when I'm vulnerable to it?"

"That's what's so confusing," Zatanna replied. Bruce placed a hand on her shoulder. Without looking, she reached up and placed her hand over his. They were proving to be quite the enigmatic couple.

The black-haired sorceress continued, "The only ones who should be able to repel me are other magic wielders."

Clark added the pieces of what they weren't telling him. "I did something," he concluded. "It's my fault."

"You didn't do anything," Lois stated fiercely. Her glare pierced Zatanna. "Right?"

Zatanna wasn't exactly looking at Lois, while Bruce remained unaffected, as always. "I don't think he did anything," Zatanna said. "Consciously."

Lois rubbed Clark's shoulder. "Unconsciously?" she said, tone deceptively light.

"I believe you fought against my spell," Zatanna replied, locking eyes with Clark again.

Clark's eyebrows furrowed. "But I was –" He immediately corrected his wording. "I _am_ ready to go." Wasn't he?

Words lost in his recent haze of pain tugged at his mind. It had been a stray thought as the torment reached its height. He concentrated on remembering, but the words continued to elude him.

"For this specific spell, the soul has to be willing," Zatanna said. Her eyes never left Clark and he had the distinct impression she was trying to tell him something without actually saying it aloud.

"But if it's an unconscious desire, then you can't just change it like that," Lois said, snapping her fingers to emphasize the 'that'. "You can't change what you aren't aware of."

"We'll find out if Zatanna tries again," Bruce stated. He took Zatanna by the shoulders and smoothly straightened her so she was standing. "After an appropriate time has passed."

"I said _no_, Bruce," Lois said tightly. "Get that through your playboy – no offense, Zee – head. There's another way and we'll find it." She squeezed Clark's hand and Clark found himself thankful for her support. She was his anchor in this tumultuous future.

_Not mine._ Clark was reminded of his glimpse into his future relationship with Lois. "I don't understand," he said suddenly. "I'm _ready_. I want to go back now."

"You might think so," Zatanna said gently. "But there is something keeping you here."

Clark looked from Zatanna to Lois, not knowing what to do. There was nothing keeping him in the future. He was ready to go back. He didn't want to deal with any more surprises. He needed to be back on even ground.

He wanted to give Lois her husband back.

"You'll figure it out," Lois said, giving him an encouraging smile. "Besides, you're not alone."

Clark stared at her. This Lois was particularly good at overwhelming him. Then again, so was his. He felt his heart swell and backpedaled quickly. "Well, I'm obviously not going home any time soon," he said, looking over at the Justice League members. "The mystery needs to be solved."

"You hold the key to that," Bruce replied coolly. "The only one keeping you here is you."

Zatanna lightly slapped his chest without looking back at him. "You're not helping," she murmured.

Lois placed her hand on his cheek and turned his head towards her. "How are you feeling now?" she asked, drawing his attention away from Bruce.

Clark carefully moved his legs to the ground and made sure not to hit Lois. He stood up and walked over to the glass doors. Sunlight poured over him, feeding him with new energy and strength. "Good as new," he stated, turning around. He smiled big so as to put her worries to rest.

Lois returned his smile, and Clark was gratified to see her anxiety melt away.

"So are we just supposed to sit around and wait until Clark has his epiphany that he wants to go home?" Oliver called from his position behind his computer.

Clark looked over at his old friend, for the first time realizing he was still in the room. Oliver had been uncharacteristically quiet. "But I _do_ want to go home," Clark retorted. How many times would he have to say it before they believed him?

Oliver leaned back in his chair. "Obviously not, Boy Scout," he replied, tapping a pen on his desk. "Or you wouldn't be standing there."

Clark didn't know if he could trust what he felt anymore. Everyone was telling him one thing when he was sure he felt another. He remained silent.

Oliver sighed. "Someone needs to take over the patrol for Metropolis," he said.

Clark twitched. Zatanna spoke before he could. "Clark can take on patrol," she commented.

Bruce met Clark's eyes challengingly. "How exactly will he do that when he can't fly?" he asked.

Oliver immediately interrupted, frowning. "Abilities don't make the hero."

"Then why didn't you suggest him as my lovely companion did?" Bruce asked nonchalantly, glancing at Zatanna though the question was directed at Oliver. It was clear he already knew the answer.

Clark's suspicions were confirmed when Oliver looked away. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like it.

Bruce returned his stare calmly. "We need Superman, not the Red-Blue Blur."

Definitely didn't like it. Clark leveled a glare at the dark haired billionaire. "I am perfectly capable of patrolling Metropolis," he said, tone neutral.

Bruce seemed amused by something, and Clark bristled. "You have absolutely no idea of the state of this world," Bruce commented. "Don't presume you know anything."

What was he going on about? "I never said I did," Clark replied tightly.

Lois stood and came over to place a hand on his arm. She looked between him and the others. "This is getting us nowhere," she said. "And you –" She frowned at Bruce. "– you are being more prickly than usual."

"I don't take too kindly to the timeline being threatened," Bruce answered. "Or boys playing at heroes."

"Bruce!" Zatanna exclaimed. She moved out of his reach. "What are you doing?"

"I'm reminding _Clark _–" Bruce emphasized his name in a way that had Clark picturing quotation marks. "– not to get too comfortable."

All these digs at his expense were grating on his nerves. "You clearly have a problem with me," Clark said, crossing his arms. "So don't talk as if I'm not here."

"If I had a problem with you, you'd know," Bruce replied, expression closed off.

No one could drive him as crazy as Lois, but Clark thought Bruce was coming in a close second. The man was as mystifying as he was frustratingly obstinate. "Look, I'd be out of your hair if I could," Clark said patiently. "But for however long I'm stuck here, I'm going to help."

"You can't help when you don't know what you're doing."

"I don't need any more of my inadequacies shoved in my face," he said stonily. "I'm not Superman. I'm not your Clark. I get that." He uncrossed his arms and clenched his fists at his sides. "But that isn't going to stop me from helping."

"That's not a good idea."

Clark stepped up to Bruce, narrowing his eyes. "Try and stop me."

–

"If I didn't know about Bruce's notorious self-discipline, I think he would have decked you."

Clark set Lois down carefully in the middle of the apartment, having supersped back after the unsuccessful meeting in Oliver's loft. "He knows it would hurt him more than it would hurt me."

Lois nodded. "Still, there was something funny going on there," she commented, pursing her lips.

Clark winced at the memory of Bruce's disapproving stare. "Can we… not get into that?" he asked. "I'd like to cool down first."

Lois gave him an assessing look, but acquiesced. "You should rest," she said. "I'll work in the living room."

Clark shook his head. "I'm fine. I can't sit around here and think of a way back home. Not now," he said. "I need to get out there and clear my head."

She frowned and after a moment, sighed. "I'm not your prison guard," she said. "And you know I'm not a fan of rules."

Clark snorted. _Understatement of the century._

She glared at him as if she knew what he was thinking and he schooled his expression innocently. She eyed him a few seconds longer and finally said, "There are things in this future you shouldn't know. But I'm not going to keep you from doing what you feel is right. What little knowledge you might glean out there –" She nodded to the Metropolis skyline. "– is miniscule to the good you can do in Clark's absence."

Lois trusted him to keep his promise. "Thank you," he said. He turned, fully prepared to speed off, partly because he didn't want to give her any reason to retract her permission.

Lois caught the sleeve of his T-shirt. "Ah-ah-ah," she said in a singsong voice, wagging her finger. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To patrol." Hadn't they _just_ gone over this?

"What, you're going to blur everywhere without letting people or cameras catch you?"

"… pretty much," he replied, seeing nothing wrong with the idea. That was his plan every time he went out as the RBB.

"You want to save people?" she asked. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "You're going to have to wear the suit."

Clark twitched. "Oh no."

Lois smiled and nodded.

"No," he said. She kept nodding and he kept shaking his head. "No, no, no, no."

"Clark Jerome Kent, what is your dysfunction?" Lois circled him with her hands on her hips, looking him up and down. "This is more than a tights phobia."

Clark hated when someone used his full name. It always made him feel like he was in trouble. And now, Lois had made the short list of people who ever used it on him – the only other people being his parents.

Lois stopped in front of him, studying him intently. He fidgeted.

"It… doesn't feel right," he said lamely. She gave him a look that said she wasn't letting it go so easily.

How to put his uncertainty into words? Dozens of explanations ran through his head before he finally said, "There are no sunglasses."

Lois's pensive expression became puzzled. She shook her head. "Umm… no?"

"No mask."

"… no face-obscuring doohickey?" Lois continued, and Clark saw the beginnings of understanding cross her face.

"Exposing myself to the public…" The initial admiration and hero-worship was nothing more than a fleeting fantasy. He recalled how easily the world was swayed to believe the worst in him. How swiftly the government had descended on his home, threatening those he cared about. "I don't exactly have the most pleasant of memories."

A calculating gleam darted through her eyes, but it disappeared so fast that Clark wasn't sure he saw anything at all. "You're safe here. In this future," she said. "Clark Kent is a mild-mannered reporter for the Daily Planet. Nothing more, nothing less."

"But –"

"No explanations here," she said, zipping her lips. "All I can say regarding your identity –" She reached up to tap the sides of his glasses. "– is that you've taken care of it."

Clark felt the same curiosity from earlier creeping up on him again. A sense of inevitability washed over him and he sighed. Then he remembered what another Lois had attempted in an alternate universe. Combined with the actions of this future Lois, he made sure to make one thing clear.

"No peeking."

–

"How do I wear this thing?"

Clark stood in the middle of the bedroom his future self shared with Lois, holding up the blue one-piece suit. Lois leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom. She looked more amused than she should be, and he frowned at her.

She shrugged, though there was a kind of secretive glint in her eye. "I've never seen you do it slowly. You sort of –" She twirled her fingers in a fast circular motion. "– and there you go."

Well, that was no help at all. His frown was directed to the costume again. His hand moved along the edges at the top and he felt the zipper. He pulled it down till it stopped mid-back.

He looked back up at Lois, and she wiggled her hips. "Shimmy your way in?" she suggested.

Clark paused long enough to give her a stare of disbelief, though his gaze then swung quickly away from her hips and back to the suit. The material was soft under his fingertips. He took a deep breath. He was really going to do this. He kicked off his shoes, but then looked pointedly at Lois.

She rolled her eyes. "It's not like I haven't seen it all before," she said nonchalantly.

"_Lois_."

"Yeah, 'no peeking'," she said, waving her hand dismissively. She seemed to contemplate something, and then simply headed towards the hallway. "I'm going out."

"Wait – where are you going?" he asked, placing the suit on the bed next to the cape and belt.

"I need to check up on some things," she replied vaguely. "You don't need me for anything, right?"

He didn't know how to answer at first. "No, I guess not," he finally replied, caught off guard by his own surprise. All of a sudden, the idea of not having Lois beside him felt a little… strange. Plus he found it very peculiar that she wasn't sticking around to see him wear the final product.

Lois waved at him without looking back.

"Just do what you do best."

–

Saving the world was all well and good, but what happened when the world was relatively quiet? Listening to a police scanner while in costume was out of the question, so he decided to stretch his ears. Clark stood atop a high building in Suicide Slums, simply listening to Metropolis. There were no disturbances or cries of distress. He closed his eyes in an attempt to focus further.

He heard the fluttering of his cape as the wind rushed by him. The red boots were solid and comfortable on his feet, while the blue one-piece suit clung to him like a second skin. The feeling was not as horrible as he imagined. An unusual sense of _something_ ran through him. Not quite pride, but not humility either.

It had been maybe an hour since Lois had gone from the apartment, leaving him to don the costume. Once he had steeled his resolve, putting on the suit had been relatively easy. A quick shimmy, as Lois suggested, and then a few tugs was all it took. After that, he hooked on the cape and slipped on the boots. Before he supersped to the roof, he took one look in the mirror.

Clark hadn't recognized himself, but the big deal about Superman was beginning to make sense.

He let the sounds of the city surround him. He pushed past the honking of afternoon traffic, the flapping of pigeons' wings, and the chattering of random pedestrians. Searching, searching…

"Don't even think about pressing that button, sweet cheeks. Unless you want a bullet straight through your pretty little head."

_There!_

Clark concentrated on the ensuing conversation between criminal and victim as he supersped towards their voices. Seconds later, he stopped in a deserted alleyway, not quite ready to have anyone spot him. There was an unmarked van at the entrance, and with a quick x-ray look, he knew it was the getaway car. He turned his x-ray vision onto the brick wall in front of him, and saw the beginnings of a bank robbery.

Customers lay face down on the floor while bank employees were gathered in a corner. They huddled together as one of the robbers watched them. Another robber pointed a machine pistol at the back of who Clark assumed was the bank manager. The short balding man was sweating profusely as the robber nudged him towards the vault at the back of the building.

Clark took this all in within a matter of seconds.

"Nice and slow, old man, and you might be able to get out of this with your life."

Clark's jaw clenched as the bank manager trembled horribly. The short man stepped up to the security panel and pressed his finger to the scanner.

Clark made a swift reassessment of where all the robbers were located. Before he lost his nerve, he supersped into the building, quickly disabling all the weapons in each criminal's grasp. They fell in a twisted pile next to the startled bank staff. Within the next few seconds, there was a gust of wind and a blur of movement before all five robbers, including the driver of the getaway car, were deposited in the center of the room. Their hands were bound behind their backs by plastic cable ties that Clark found in the van. All of them were knocked unconscious with a small tap to the forehead. He removed their ski masks and wildly colored wigs, dropping them beside their still forms.

Clark paused before completely stopping in the middle of the room. His cape fluttered with the movement before it settled gently against his back. He raised his head slowly, still wary of anyone seeing his face. He half-expected to hear exclamations of "Clark Kent? Is that you?"

Instead, there was only stunned silence and then relieved shouts of "Superman!"

Customers picked themselves off the ground as bank employees strayed from their designated corner. The fear and panic on their faces transformed into gratitude and appreciation. They all looked thankfully at him, but the bank manager approached him first.

"Superman! Thank you so much!" The manager reached out to shake his hand. "If you hadn't come when you did –" he cut himself off, shuddering. "We're forever in your debt."

Clark nodded, the name 'Superman' still sounding foreign to his ears. "You should call the police right away," he said, purposely making his voice a tad deeper. It seemed like the right thing to do.

"Of course, of course!" The manager nodded rapidly and signaled someone over Clark's shoulder. "To be honest, Superman, I'm very surprised they chose to rob my bank. We don't hold half as much money as the larger branches. Same goes for our number of clients."

That was a bit odd. The size of the take is what usually attracted a criminal. "Money is money, sir," he said. "And it looks like they wanted to take advantage of your security situation." He spotted the two lone security guards getting their bearings as they started to make rounds, checking everyone's status.

"Superman! Thank you!"

"Thank you so much!"

"You saved us!"

As they emerged from their shock, more and more customers and employees began to approach and thank Clark. He smiled, though it was bit strained as memories from before he used the Legion ring came back to him.

"Forgive me, ladies and gentlemen, but –" Clark's ears picked up the sound of screeching tires. "– duty calls." They continued to shout out their thanks as he sped out of the building.

It was all very strange. Strange, but not dreadful. He could give this a real chance.

–

A few hours later, as nighttime descended on Metropolis, Clark landed on the balcony of Lois's apartment, having leapt across from the neighboring building. Lois was asleep on the couch in bunny print pajamas. She sat sideways with her feet flat on the cushions and her left cheek against the back of the couch. Ever so quietly, he entered the living room and shut the sliding door.

But Lois wasn't as asleep as he thought she was. Her eyes opened and when she lifted her head to look at him, he froze. Her face lit up and the smile that bloomed on her lips made his heart ache. A pause. Her smile faded.

She composed herself quickly and ignored the elephant in the room. "You look good," she said. She looked him up and down with a self-satisfied grin. Her appraisal sent an unexpected streak of pride through him. She continued, "Am I right, or am I right?"

He pinched the fabric at his side. "It's… not so bad," he conceded. In fact, he was a bit nervous at how fast he had gotten used to it.

"Not so bad, huh?" She arched an eyebrow. "I guess patrol went well."

"The Blur-slash-Superman helped a few more people today." He couldn't stop from smiling. If he couldn't yet help find out where his future self was, he wanted to help keep the city safe.

"Chalk up another win for the good guys," she said, pumping a fist in the air. Lois pulled at the long sleeves of her pajamas as she stretched her legs out on the couch. "Change out of that very hot ensemble and then come join me. We're going to veg out and watch a movie."

Clark zipped out of the room and returned in the same sleeping clothes he wore the night before, the breeze from his sudden motions stirring Lois's ponytail. "We are, are we?" He cocked his head, trying to see into her thought process.

She held up a DVD box. "_Back to the Future_," she said as he read the title silently. She tossed the slim container on the coffee table. "I imagine that's what Clark is up to right now."

Clark tried to picture his future self running around, possibly even enlisting the help of his Lois. A knot of unease formed in his gut at the idea, and he focused instead on the movie the Lois before him chose. "You have a strange sense of humor sometimes," he commented.

"You say that now, but I bet a DeLorean would solve a lot of our problems," she said offhandedly. She reached for her mug of coffee on the table and took a sip. Her voice turned subdued. "I know that, if Clark is stuck in the past, he's trying as hard as we are."

"Lois…"

She shook her head. The somber look on her face was out of place, and Clark hated it. "I need to not think about it for a couple hours," she said quietly. She placed her mug back on the table and held out her hand. "Want to escape with me?"

Clark hesitated. He stared at her hand for a long moment. Just as her fingers started to curl back, he grasped it. She beamed and tugged him down next to her on her right side. He fell back against the cushions, her hand still twined with his. Her right wrist touched his skin and a peculiar tingle ran up his arm.

"Ready to accelerate to time travel speeds of eighty-eight miles per hour?" Lois asked, pressing 'play' on the DVD remote. She tucked her legs underneath her and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Sure," he said absently, distracted by her proximity. He shifted in his seat, which caused her hair to skim along the side of his neck. It was not an unpleasant feeling.

Clark glanced sideways at Lois.

_This is getting dangerous._


	10. Bullpen

**Free Fall  
**Author: Krys Yuy  
Summary: Clark isn't willing to risk his heart again. But when Fate gives him a glimpse into his future, the only question is – how hard will he fall?  
Pairings/Characters: Clark/Lois, Chloe/Bart, Oliver/Dinah, Bruce/Zatanna, Justice League  
Warning: Spoilers up to _Hex_.  
Rating: PG-13/T  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes only.  
Dedication: **drvr8**, because you're really too kind. Thanks for the wonderful encouragement.  
Author's Notes: A month+ between updates. Oi vey. After Chapter 9, I was working on a Divine Intervention challenge, _Echoes_ – wherein instead of going to the future, Lois is sent to the past post-_Doomsday_ and she meets a younger Clark. While a totally fulfilling experience for me, I sort of had fanfic burnout after that. And here we are now. This chapter, however, is nearly double my usual word count goal, so yay for longer chapter? Also, I still haven't responded to reviews from Chapter 8 or 9. Please don't be surprised if you get responses over the course of this week. I know it's extremely late, but I hate leaving things unfinished (ironic, considering my track record with WIPs). I know I've said I wanted to finish this fanfic before the S9 premiere – obviously, that's _not_ going to happen. Sad. I hope you all still continue to enjoy the ride though. Remember to check out my LiveJournal sidebar and/or Twitter for status updates.  
Okay! What to say about this chapter. This installment was always part of the plan because I adore the Daily Planet and Clark needed to spend a little time there. He's seen a bit from the side of his superhero persona. Now it's time to see the other side. I won't be surprised if some of you get bored, though, but I cannot stress enough the importance of various things being laid out. It's all going to get kicked into high gear in the next chapter, and what you've all been waiting for is fast approaching. Also, hope you enjoy the appearance of some DP characters. Jimmy gets a brief cameo – it would have been longer, but I nearly forgot to write him in. Blasphemy! My Perry White… is an amalgamation of all the versions I came across, though he is supposed to physically look like Michael McKean.  
In other news, _Free Fall_ won four awards at the Smallville Fanfic Awards at LiveJournal! It won Best Clark-centric, Best Use of the Justice League, Best "Future", and Best WIP. I hope I can live up to these honors. Thank you to everyone who voted for me. Please leave a review if you are so inclined. It really helps. Thanks! :D  
Also, thank you very much to each and every person who reviewed Chapter 9! You rock: AllyOz, Aaron Leach, cloisharley, Nello15, f1ameseeker, xxxTwilightDawnxxx, Dannie Tomlinson, lunnerwolf107, EdwardBella4ever17, Hakkyou Kuusou, jamie, reeven, Ily18, anacaro, AdriGoddess, girlinflux, Evergreen, Hittokiri, IceQueen825, Vicious, 1eclecticreader, TheGryfter, IrishUnicorn, dkwr07, and Mayicita. Thank you so much for taking the time to review! If you leave a review and you have a FanfictionNet account, I will respond to you. Again, I will be responding to past reviews within the next few days. I'm sincerely sorry about the lateness.  
I cannot stress this enough – **THANK YOU** to my awesome reviewers and readers! I hope some of you are still sticking with me, even though I have update droughts. So, without further adieu, please read, review, and enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 10: Bullpen

Clark watched Lois as discreetly as he could from his seat behind the counter, glancing at her every so often as he scooped another spoonful of cereal. He quietly munched his simple breakfast – Lois had attempted to make a quick omelet, which turned more into a quick yellow blob of something not egg-like at all – and wondered what it was that was so different. Hair tied up in a simple bun, Lois moved around the kitchen, using one hand to put away the cereal and the items from her breakfast attempt. Her other hand held her trusty mug of coffee, the one thing she was always sure to get right.

He would have tried to fix their breakfast, but they had both woken up a little later due to their impromptu movie marathon. They didn't have the time to indulge, so Clark chose cereal again. Lois went for the even simpler option of an apple. Their morning was relatively undisturbed, aside from the initial panic at waking up later than the norm, or so Lois had said. Clark didn't know what their weekday 'norm' was supposed to be, aside from Lois's quick rundown the morning before.

Clark decided to go with the flow rather than question it. Vague answers only led to more questions, anyway. He glanced at Lois again. She lifted the coffee mug to her mouth absentmindedly, her mind obviously on autopilot as she tidied up the kitchen. He would have thought she was lost in her worries again if not for the small smile that flitted across her lips at random instances.

Clark puzzled over this transformation. The other times he had caught her in a quiet moment, she was downcast and troubled. Now she seemed more at peace than perturbed. It was as if something had changed overnight.

"What?"

Clark started, locking eyes with Lois. She looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. The content had fled from her expression to be replaced with curiosity. She leaned back against the kitchen island, taking another sip from her mug as she waited for his response.

"Nothing," he replied automatically. Her eyebrow arched higher, prompting him to hesitantly add, "You look different."

She looked down at her outfit, a white button-up blouse complete with long-sleeved black jacket and pencil skirt.

"Happier," he clarified at her bemused countenance.

Lois paused. "It's amazing what a full night's rest will do," she replied airily. "Haven't had one of those in awhile."

He gazed back incredulously. "We fell asleep at 2AM watching Back to the Future II," he said. "You wanted to watch the third one to 'complete the trilogy', but we were both out before that happened."

"Like I said. A good night's rest." She shrugged as she finished the rest of her needed dose of caffeine. She grabbed his bowl and glass without asking if he was done, and he let her take it. She dumped the dishes along with her mug in the sink to be washed later. "Don't tell me you didn't have one either."

That was beside the point. Waking up with her in his arms had not been entirely unpleasant. Though he tried not to think about that. "A 'full night's rest'," he repeated her earlier words, "does not begin at 2AM."

"Pay attention. I said a 'good night's rest'," she said. He didn't bother to point out she had said "full night's rest" first and she continued, "Besides, it's a new day, Smallville. New day, new opportunities, new leads." She clapped her hands once and walked through the kitchen archway, coming up to him as he swiveled around on the barstool.

"You're being very… positive." That sounded right. Kind of.

"Positive?" she echoed. "You mean my usual sunny and cheerful disposition?" She grabbed his glasses off the counter and slid them on, pushing them up his nose with her index finger.

Clark made a sound somewhere between a cough and a snort.

Lois paused briefly in smoothing out the lines of his black suit. She glared at him and dusted off his shoulders harder than necessary. He cracked a smile, however, when he spotted the slight twinkle in her eye as she continued to adjust his outfit. But then his smile turned a bit perplexed when Lois hesitated at his necktie. He looked down. The pinstriped dark blue tie he had chosen from his future self's collection sat straight and neat against his white button-down dress shirt. He didn't see what was wrong.

"Something the matter?" he asked.

Lois blinked, looking up at him and back at his tie. She adjusted the knot even though it was perfectly straight. "Your neck tying skills have improved," she commented.

"Not really," he replied without thinking. "It took me several minutes to get this right this morning." He shrugged and brushed the front of his dress shirt as Lois's arms returned to her side. "Getting a little better every day, though."

Lois nodded, and he almost missed the smile that darted across her face again before her expression smoothed over to something more neutral. "Time to go, or Perry will have our heads. He wants another update on our articles," she said.

The mystery behind Lois's smiles was put on the backburner as a more pressing issue returned to the forefront of his mind. "Perhaps I- I mean, he- should take a sick day?" he suggested. Going to the Daily Planet on a workday spelled all kinds of trouble, especially if he wanted to keep his promise.

"You want to stay cooped up here all day?" she replied.

Well, he wasn't planning on _that_. "I thought I would patrol again," he retorted, crossing his arms.

She gave his cheek a good poke and he belatedly realized he had been pouting. "There's a reason you have a day job," she said. "Besides, Clark can't afford to miss work right now. If you don't come to Perry, I can guarantee he will be coming to you." Off his questioning look, she explained, "The deadline for the article is this week."

Clark tried to quell the sudden rising panic in his chest. "I don't even know what it is!" he exclaimed. Aside from Lois's generalized reference the day before, he really had no idea. Something about power plants in the Philippines. Was he expected to finish it? How far had his future self even gotten? And did this mean he covered international stories now? Was that a result of his elevated status at the Planet?

Despite his many questions, Clark briefly acknowledged the streak of satisfaction at the back of his mind. He had definitely risen from lowly intern.

Lois was oblivious to his internal freak-out as she walked over to the living area and started rummaging around the couch for something. "Look, all you have to do is sit at Clark's – _your _ – desk and look pretty."

He wasn't sure if he should feel insulted or not. "So do nothing," he concluded flatly.

"No," she replied, lifting up cushions and putting them back. "Put on a show for the Chief so it looks like you're working."

"Or I could actually work."

Lois did not react as he expected. "If you want," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Ah!" She removed her hand from the side of the couch to reveal her cell phone, what looked to be the latest version of the Blackberry. The next thing he knew, she tucked it somewhere on her person, but he couldn't tell where, because though her outfit was professional, it highlighted her natural curves and there didn't seem to be any room for her to hide anything at all.

His eyes abruptly jerked back to her face. _There will be no thinking of curves. Of any type. Whatsoever._

He forced his mind back to Lois's flippant reaction. Working on the article meant finding out something about the future. He would have to look through his future self's notes, use the computer. Accessing the Daily Planet database was a temptation he wasn't sure he could refuse.

Lois was ejecting the DVD from the player and placing the disc back in its slim casing. She held _Back to the Future_ and its sequel in one hand, her gaze roaming over the titles fleetingly. "Way off base," she murmured to herself, so hushed that if he had been human, he wouldn't have heard her at all.

He couldn't even begin to imagine what that was supposed to mean and brushed it off. There were more important things to address. "Is it okay if I work?" he asked, and then worried if that had been the right wording at all. And why was he phrasing it like he needed her permission?

_Because you don't want to do something that would disappoint her._

Clark saw his Lois, wet and disheveled from the rain the first time around, her frustration melting into weary resignation.

"_Look, I get it. You have other things on your mind. I don't expect to be the person at the top of your priority list."_

Clark had no time to feel guilty, not when future Lois responded, "I'm not your warden, Smallville."

He was genuinely trying to be good about following the rules – however vague those rules were for someone stranded in one's own future. He was being particularly careful with the rule concerning knowing too much about one's fate. He remembered how adamant she had been about Chloe. "You said –"

"I know what I said," she interrupted. She returned the DVDs to their designated spot in the bookcase next to the television. "And I also know what I didn't say."

Lois turned back to him, crossing her arms, and he could only stare back, confused. Thinking back to his first night in the future, he recalled that she had never asked him to make his promise. Did this mean she was giving him the green light to snoop?

'_Snoop'? I've really been hanging around Lois too long._

Clark Kent did not snoop. He investigated. He only snooped when he was dragged along for the ride.

"I appreciate you being so very eagle scout about your promise. I stand by what I said, but it's a new day."

_A new day._ Why did she keep repeating that?

"If Dark-and-Brooding had his way, he'd cut you off completely. But as long as you're not trying to memorize every world disaster or looking up your future saves as Superman–" _Or trying to find out about Chloe,_ he mentally filled in for her. "– it's okay." She tilted her head. "Are we on the same wavelength?"

"… I guess." He felt a little unsure, like he was missing something.

Lois looked him up and down, and then shook her head. "Only you." She came up beside him on the other side of the couch and patted his shoulder. He assumed it was supposed to be reassurance of some kind, but he still caught the smallest of frowns when it crossed her face for a split-second. Then she faced him again, exasperated yet fond all at once, hints of a frown gone.

"Look, if you go to the Planet with me, are you going to ditch the article and look up everything you can about the future?" she asked.

He made a face. "No! Of course not."

"Then there's no problem," she stated. She made it sound so simple. Or he was making it harder than it had to be.

Clark weighed the situation in his head. He wanted to tread lightly, but then results would be slower to come. Second guessing everything wasn't going to get him anywhere. "Right," he agreed. "No problem."

Lois glanced at the clock on the wall and cursed under her breath. "At the rate we're going, you're gonna have to give me a lift to work," she said, walking out to the hallway closet. "Our morning walk-slash-commute is going to take too long now." She opened the door and reached in, pulling out two black coats.

"Thanks," he said quietly, accepting the cotton overcoat she handed to him. It was about a three-quarter length, double-breasted with round buttons and looked nothing like something he would have picked for himself.

He slipped it on regardless, though something about his expression must have given him away because Lois laughed as she put on her own stylish peacoat. "Sometimes the price of having rich friends is that they give you nice things," she teased. "I dare you to guess who."

Clark only had one rich friend. Unless he was supposed to add Bruce to the short list. "I'd rather not."

Lois smoothed over the lapels of his outer coat, grabbed her purse off the hallway table and then hooked her arms around his neck. Had she always been so touchy-feely in the past? Flashes of his Lois placing her hand on his chest flared in his memories, and he shook his head, banishing them from his mind. But he knew they wouldn't be far.

"Spoilsport." Her hold on him tightened. "If you don't get your tight butt in gear, I can't be held responsible if Perry gives us the late lecture."

_Perry._ That name again. Something niggled at his memory, but he couldn't quite place it. Mentally shrugging, he bent down and in one smooth move, picked Lois up with an arm fixed behind her back and another under her knees.

Clark wondered when it had started to become so natural – the feel of her in his arms.

Like all other times prior, Clark quickly diverted his train of thought. He wasn't ready to open that door all the way, nor was he ready to face the ledge forming in his mind.

Out of the corner of his eye, Clark saw Lois open her mouth – no doubt ready with a sharp prompting – and he tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement, cutting her off. He held her close and told himself it was for no other reason than to keep her secured.

"Hold on tight."

Clark wasn't sure if he was talking to Lois or himself.

–

The burst of sound that greeted Clark as he followed the small crowd out of the elevator surprised him enough that he paused at the opening and Lois had to pull him with her. She led him to the railing of the platform that overlooked the entire floor. He tried not to gape.

The quiet newsroom he had visited two nights prior was transformed in the weekday morning light. He had thought it had been impressive then, with its wide-open space and square clusters of desks arranged in varying sections and rows. But it was more than that.

He should have been used to it. The basement had its fair share of frantic employees fluttering here and there, papers taken and replaced from the 'in' and 'out' stacked trays nonstop. Even a low-ranking intern like him had piles of work, though his dealt mostly with the stray obituary or announcement, or simply proofreading the mildest of stuff.

Interns didn't work on this floor.

Though the hour was early, reporters already filled the air with their chatter and the speedy clacking of their keyboards. Some were scurrying from desk to desk, papers and notepads clutched in their hands, while others disappeared and reappeared behind the hallways at the corners of the room – where they led, Clark had no idea. From his vantage point, there was only one private office in the very back, placed directly in the wall opposite the elevators. Next to the office was a large conference room.

The ceiling to floor windows making up the walls of the newsroom revealed the brilliant Metropolis view bathed in the golds and reds of the sunrise – a perfect background for where the award-winning newspaper came together. The floor was a flurry of activity, mirroring the basement, and yet, it was an entirely different and charged atmosphere.

Excitement eclipsed his apprehension.

This was the kind of chaos that Clark, in his time, had just started to realize he loved.

"Intimidated, Smallville?"

Clark glanced at Lois, frowning, but glimpsed the sparkle in her eye. He scoffed, pretending to be more irritated than he was. "Hardly."

An amused smile lit her face as she gazed at him. "Welcome to the Daily Planet bullpen," she said, turning and heading down the small set of stairs that led to the main floor.

The reflexive 'thanks' died on his lips with her next words and he rolled his eyes.

"Try not to trip."

–

The animation of the spinning Daily Planet globe – an updated 2015 version – appeared again on the computer screen after minutes of idling and Clark staring at it blankly.

He leaned to the side in his chair and spied Lois's bent head. She was scribbling on a piece of paper. He moved back in front of the monitor and gave his mouse a little push so that the screen saver vanished once more. The login screen taunted him with its blue background and blinking cursor in the empty password slot.

The username section was already helpfully filled in by 'Clark Kent'. Easy enough. At least the computers seemed to work the same as the one he used in the basement. Except his password had changed some time in his missing six years.

'Shelby' didn't work anymore. The password hint wasn't any help either. All it said was 'A Favorite First Day'.

The first day he started working at the Planet was a bust. Same as his first official practice as part of the Smallville Crows football team. The first time his dad took him out on the tractor didn't work either – the only reason he remembered the date was his mom had written it in an entry by a photo. He lost count of how many times he had turned the pages of that scrapbook.

On a whim, he typed in 'JonathanKent', though he wasn't surprised when that failed, too. His father's name wasn't a date, but Clark felt like he was running out of options. Was it sad that he couldn't remember favorite first days? Whatever that meant.

His future self could have been referring to any number of things. A favorite first day of… what? Work? School? Or maybe the day of a favorite first… date? Game? Or! The first day of a favorite… No, maybe it was a favorite day of a first…

_I'm going crazy._

Clark hung his head in his hands. Rearranging the words of the hint in any which way wasn't helping. _Noun modifiers equal headache. I'm over thinking it._

Wasn't he supposed to be able to understand himself? Granted, his future self was six years older, but still. They were one and the same, he and him. Yet, it felt like he was light-years behind.

_I am not going to get frustrated over a password!_

This time Clark peeked over his screen to see Lois rearranging different pieces of papers side by side on the flat surface of her desk, the part perpendicular to the connecting surface where her computer lay. The L shape of the desk worked for her. She used all the space available, and even had to push all the other documents littering the surface to the side.

Lois twirled a red pen between her left fingers as she studied the notes in front of her. Her eyes were narrowed and her teeth bit just so into her bottom lip – a sign that she was piecing together the elements of a very elaborate puzzle. The kind of puzzle she really enjoyed. An article.

"Lois?"

She checked the notepad she had in her lap and moved a piece of paper all the way to the left, at the beginning of the row.

"Lois?"

She waved at him like she was swatting at a bug, as if it was he and not the buzzing newsroom that was louder.

Clark briefly considered rolling up a wad of paper and tossing it at her head. He cracked a smile at the thought, but knew that wouldn't really help him. He tried one more time. "Lois," he called, knocking on the wooden partition between their workstations.

Her eyes flickered to him, then back to her puzzle. "Hmm?"

He decided not to beat around the bush. "Do you know the password to his account?" he asked. He made sure to keep his voice low, heedful of their surrounding neighbors.

"I never said it would be easy," she replied. She flashed a mischievous smile.

He frowned and sighed at the same time.

"Kent!"

Clark jumped. He looked around at the faces milling about.

"In my office!"

Clark turned to the left just in time to see the door to the only private office on the floor close. He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and stood up.

Lois was already on her feet and passing by his desk on the other side of their shared T-shaped cubicle. "Not you, handsome," she said, winking. "He's talking to me."

_Lois Lane-__**Kent**__._

It still sent a certain thrill through him. He shook his head. "How can you tell?"

She smiled. "Let's leave it a mystery," she replied. "Makes things more interesting." She carried a notepad in her hand and a pen behind her ear as she navigated her way through the maze of desks.

Clark bit back a comment about the future already having enough mysteries – it didn't need one more – and watched her until she passed through the office door. He heard a "Yes, Chief?" before the door closed and he resisted the urge to listen in.

Sighing, his eyes fell on the bottom drawer of his desk, the only one with a lock. Curious, he pulled at it, but it didn't budge. He didn't expect anything less, though. He would never forget to lock away sensitive data. Since he had no idea where his future self had stashed the key, that left the easy way. Looking around subtly, Clark rolled his chair in front of the drawer. He confirmed that everyone else was preoccupied before pulling at the drawer again. When he felt the resistance of the lock, he applied just the right amount of pressure for it to break as noiselessly as possible.

Clark heard the faint clunk of the lock as the inner portion fell and broke away from the whole. Then he opened the drawer easily with the small exertion a human would use. The drawer turned out to be a hanging file cabinet. Several of the tabs were filled and marked with his handwriting.

Clark browsed through them at normal speed – some labels were dates, others places or people, and a few were just initials and numbers. 'MNL – Plants (?)' caught his eye and he took out the folder. He knew MNL stood for Manila and he recalled Lois saying that his current article had to do with the Philippines and something about power plants. Oliver had also said something about the Philippines, but instead of power plants, his friend had used the words 'experiment facilities'.

He gripped the folder. _This has to be it._ Clark gave the contents a quick once-over before he placed it on the flat surface of his desk adjacent to his computer space. He was about to shut the cabinet when he noticed the gap at the back of the drawer.

Clark pushed all the hanging file folders towards the front, so as to leave the back of the cabinet open and clear. There was a small box and a white envelope, smaller than legal size but larger than the office ones the Planet tended to use. Both items were unmarked.

He was about to reach in when another shout made him shut the drawer instead.

"Kent!"

Clark leapt to his feet and this time he knew to look straight towards the private office. The door was already swinging closed and Clark assumed he was expected to follow. Following Lois's lead, he grabbed a notepad and pen and hurried over, pushing past other employees.

"Hey, Clark."

A woman with cropped blonde hair winked at him from her desk as he passed her. She gave a little wave with her fingers.

"Uh, hi," he replied, not knowing what else to say. He continued on his way, faster than before, but his nerves rocketed once his hand closed around the gold doorknob.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob and entered the room. "Sorry –" He looked up and his eyes widened. "– Mr. White!"

Now he remembered why the name Perry sounded so familiar. Perry White was someone Clark had hoped would find his way. Though the older man had tried to expose him, Clark knew he was a good person. And he had certainly risen above and beyond his discredited reputation, if his 'Editor-in-Chief' plaque said anything.

Perry looked the same physically, with his light brown hair and stern features, though his hairline might have receded a couple more centimeters. There were also a few added wrinkles here and there. He looked like he belonged though, right behind his dark cherry wood desk, surrounded by papers, books, and files. His suit jacket was off and his dress shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, but he was clean-shaven and much more professional looking than five – _technically, eleven_ – years ago.

Perry also seemed very comfortable… staring him down.

Clark fidgeted, unsure if he was supposed to sit or stand, though he noted Lois sat in a wooden chair just out of arm's reach.

Perry spoke before Clark could decide on a course of action, obviously puzzled by Clark's exclamation. "Sorry for what?" he asked, but didn't give him a chance to answer. "I'm not giving you another extension on your article! I need a Lane-and-Kent piece for the paper. Or pieces, in this case." He leaned forward in his rolling chair, one elbow on his desk. "And don't call me mister."

Clark nodded, not really trusting himself to speak.

"So, what do you have for me, son?" Perry clasped his hands together on top of his paperwork.

The upside of confessing to Lois and the Justice League was not having to scramble and act like he knew what he was talking about. He was not overjoyed to do it again. He thought of everything he had gleaned about the article.

"_... Perry held the morning staff meeting and we updated him on the status of our articles. Your- _his_ with the power plants in the Philippines…"_

"Well, the power plants definitely… aren't what they're reported to be," he began lamely. Even though he wasn't looking at her, he knew Lois had to be shaking her head. But Clark was too busy feeling the weight of Perry's gaze.

"_Those experiment facilities would be easier to take down with him."_

"They're experiment facilities," Clark continued, using Bruce's words. The few scribbled sentences and words he had garnered from his future self's first page of notes came to him.

_Drugs. Testing. Shell companies. Targets… orphans. Not MH._

Clark pieced it together in his head, half-guessing and the other half going on instinct. He could feel the urge to find out more pouring through him, demanding that he discover the truth behind the dark mystery even as he pretended he knew the details.

"The companies are a front for drug testing," he continued. "They're targeting orphans."

"Orphans?" Perry prompted.

Clark knew the answer and it sickened him. "No one is going to look for them."

Lois reached out with her hand and he wordlessly placed his palm in hers. Her smile was small and comforting as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Somehow Clark knew she would have held on longer if they weren't in the presence of their boss.

Perry went on as if he hadn't witnessed their brief moment. "The party responsible?"

There had been no specifics in his future self's notes. "I'm... following some leads." It wasn't exactly a lie – all the clues pointed to his future self pursuing the mystery both as a reporter and a hero. Clark didn't know how long he could keep grasping at straws, though.

Lois seemed to sense it as well and took hold of the conversation. "Sounds like he's on the right track, huh Chief?"

"Well, he's on something." Perry gave him an assessing look. "Show me the results this week."

Without thinking, Clark immediately replied, "Of course." Then he almost wanted to smack his forehead. He had just agreed to write an article he knew only the bare details of. Or he had given his future self a really short deadline.

"The same goes for you, Lois," Perry said, switching his gaze over to her. Clark felt his nervousness lessen a bit. "I trust your instincts, but I need something concrete about the supposed connection between these bank heists. A hunch isn't anything until you can find the evidence to back it up. Until then, it's just an opinion. Not news."

Lois pursed her lips. "And everything I put in print is news gold. This is big." She stood up from her chair. "Just make sure there's an empty spot on the front page, Chief." She headed out the door.

"Don't call me Chief!" Perry called after her, exasperated and faintly amused all at once.

Clark's eyes followed Lois briefly as she made her way back to her desk. He glanced back at Perry, but the older man was already circling and crossing out a draft with red ink. A cue to leave then.

Perry didn't look up as he said, "Friday, Kent."

"Yes, Chief," Clark replied instantly before he exited the room, but not before hearing Perry's displeased mutter about no one listening to his 'no Chief' comments. Clark walked to his workstation, taking a different route, and tossed the notepad and pen he hadn't used on the desk's surface. "What now?"

Lois was already at work, simultaneously making notes and typing on her keyboard. She said, "I don't know about you, Smallville, but I have an article to write and a wayward source to track down." She picked up her phone receiver and placed it between her ear and shoulder as she started punching in numbers.

Clark watched her for a moment and picked up the folder he left on his desk. He sat down in his swivel chair as he regarded it carefully. Taking a deep breath, Clark opened the folder and started reading.

–

An hour later, Clark was still immersed in his future self's notes, the hum of the bullpen blending together as background noise. If he was reading things right, his future self was onto something big. But his written notes were incomplete. It made Clark want access even more to his Daily Planet computer account. His tech skills weren't exactly up to par, and he suddenly wished Chloe was there to work her magic.

Before his thoughts could stray further to the mysterious circumstances surrounding his best friend's situation, Lois's voice rose and invaded his quiet contemplation.

"I know that Superman intercepted all of the robberies, but it's strange they keep trying, don't you think?"

Clark turned his head to the right and looked over the wooden divider. Lois was scowling at her bulletin board that hung over the surface of her desk. It was half corkboard and half white board, covered with notes and scribbles, but with the way Lois was glaring, he was surprised the entire thing wasn't going up in flames.

"Yes, they are connected!" she exclaimed, drawing the attention of nearby employees. Some glanced at her uneasily; others went back to work as if this were an everyday occurrence. Clark wouldn't have been surprised if it was.

Lois went on, "Well, no, the police haven't released an official statement, but that doesn't necessarily mean –" She took a deep breath and visibly tried to calm herself. "May I please get a quote on the Mayor's thoughts regarding this recent string of burglaries?"

The red pen she had been twirling between her fingers stopped. "So the Mayor has no comment on the ongoing crime spree happening on the outskirts of his city? I'm sure his constituents would love that." She rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not threatening the Mayor! Criticizing."

Clark didn't particularly envy the faceless person on the other end of the line as Lois's eyes narrowed. "Of course. I'll be sure to visit in person," she said. "Soon."

Lois slammed the receiver down in her frustration. "Uncouth lackeys," she muttered. She swept her long bangs away from her forehead as she crossed a name off her list. Clark was still staring at her, which allowed him to witness the moment she noticed a few of her co-workers gaping.

"What?" she barked. They immediately scurried away.

"Lois…" Clark started, but shut his mouth as her intense gaze landed on him. He recognized a bad mood when he saw one.

Lois raised an eyebrow silently.

"I'll… just…" He pointed to his notes and ducked his head. A few seconds passed before he chanced another glimpse over their cubicle walls.

Lois's eyebrows were knit together as she stared at her notes. He craned his neck and noticed they were four addresses, all locations on the fringes of Metropolis's border. She held up her pen and gnawed at the end of it absentmindedly.

A tiny smile formed on his lips and he gave his head a little shake. Lois thrived on the energy of the Daily Planet newsroom. No one could match her focus when it came to the pursuit of a story. It was an indication of how some things would never change.

Affection rose inside him and unlike previous times, he let it flow through him. Lois was his friend, after all. It was completely innocent to feel this way. He stoutly ignored the little voice in his head; the same voice that had asked him why he walked away from her.

That night already seemed like eons ago.

Clark tore his eyes away from her and focused on the notes spread in front of him. While there was a wealth of information, his future self had been sure not to mention specific details. There were no names, only abbreviations and what Clark had to assume were code words.

From what he could gather, illegal experiment facilities were operating overseas and masquerading as a power plant company. Its main base was in the Philippines, but there were several other branches, five in total, all across Asia and one in South America. They were testing some kind of strength-enhancing drug. They were using regular humans – _orphans_ – as their lab rats.

The idea nauseated him.

Weeks ago, his future self had come across a group of thugs, thugs with strength surpassing that of an average human. They were strong, but not strong enough to overpower him. He had found three syringes in one of their pockets. The mysterious liquid had been the spark for his future counterpart's investigation.

His future self had already written a rough draft. The ending was missing and the spots with specifics had capitalized abbreviations. Clark took that to mean he planned on filling it in later. Not to mention the entire draft was written in shorthand. His future counterpart seemed to have set precautions for himself in case his article fell into the wrong hands.

Clark, however, was able to decipher the shorthand easily. It was the abbreviations that stumped him. He was relieved, though, that he didn't have to write the article from scratch. If he had to write it at all.

This article was serious business. The kind he only dreamed of writing back in his time. Because while he could admit to being focused on his identity as the Red-Blue Blur, there was something about being in the middle of the action but still behind the scenes. Before Lois had approached him with an intern application to the Daily Planet, he had never seriously considered a career in journalism. The idea had perhaps skittered across his mind, especially during his sporadic time at the Torch, but it never really stuck.

It wasn't until he was in the midst of it all, across the desk from one of his best friends, that he realized he _liked_ being a reporter. Okay, well, he wasn't an official reporter yet, but he planned on working his way up from intern or, as Lois so lovingly reminded him time and again, 'copy boy'. He wrote articles but they usually never made it to print or they were way in the back of the paper in some tiny corner of the layout. That was what happened when one wrote mostly fluff pieces.

The first article he was particularly proud of, though, was the one he wrote about Linda Lake and her murders. Back in his time, it was going to be published in the morning edition, according to Randall Brady. Clark supposed he could find out now and dig up an old copy in of the Daily Planet archives, but there was something to be said about the element of surprise. It would be a kind of reward when he finally returned to his rightful place in time.

His eyes roved over the meticulous notes of what would be the foundation of his article. One day, the notes would make complete sense to him. But right now, he didn't feel right using someone else's hard work. Besides, he didn't know all the facts and that was definitely a step in the wrong direction.

Clark closed the manila folder and sat back in his chair. He blew out a breath, ruffling his bangs. The chatter of nearby DP workers was a mere buzz in the back of his head. His gaze strayed to the bulletin board on his cubicle wall. Dates and appointments were written neatly on the white board half, but the corkboard half had pictures and older articles. His eyes passed over a picture of his future self embracing Lois from behind, their expressions laughing and carefree; instead, he focused on the bylines. Looking at each cut-out article, 'Reported by' was followed by one of three variations: Clark Kent, Lois Lane and Clark Kent, or Lois Lane-Kent and Clark Kent.

Clark knew there was significance to each and every article his future counterpart had pinned to the board, but he was careful to not read the headlines. Somehow, he understood this was only the tip of the iceberg to the number of articles he had written by himself or with Lois.

He felt pride well up inside him. His days as an intern would pass, and he would become a successful journalist, one of the Daily Planet's top reporters. Seeking truth and finding justice in a way outside of his hero persona.

This was different than saving lives.

_But,_ Clark thought as his gaze roamed over the articles he would one day pen, _just as fulfilling._

–

Clark pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he rushed back to his desk, tugging at the lapels of his business jacket. At the same moment he was about to reach his workstation, Lois placed the phone receiver back in its cradle, turned around and caught him by his jacket sleeve.

"Hold your horses, Smallville," she said, standing up. She then went about straightening his suit and tie like she had earlier that morning. She murmured, low enough so only he could hear, "Where'd you run off to? Is everything okay?"

"Fine," he replied just as quietly. He leaned down so he could whisper in her ear, ensuring no one else could listen in. "I intercepted another bank robbery."

She pulled back and her face was a breath away from his. His heart rate picked up, but she was focused on his eyes. "Again? What was the name of the bank?" she asked.

"Rochester," he answered, taking a step back. _Space. Space is good._ He dusted off his shoulders and adjusted his shirt. He felt like everyone could see past his layer of clothing and at the red and blue suit he wore underneath. How the cape didn't bunch at his back, he didn't know.

Lois smoothed over the wrinkles on his shirt, her mind obviously elsewhere as she stared at his tie and bit her lip. "What were they wearing?" she asked.

"Wearing?"

"Anything out of the ordinary?" she elaborated.

"They dressed all in black," he replied, though there had been something peculiar about their uniform ensemble. "But they did have on heavy stage makeup. And –"

Lois's cell buzzed on her desk, the screen lighting up. She held up her index finger. "Hold that thought," she said. She turned away from him to check her text messages, and her following groan of frustration told him it wasn't good. She quickly dialed a number and put the cell to her ear.

"Answer, answer," she muttered to herself. "Answer, you little weasel."

One of Clark's eyebrows rose as he looked at her back, bemused.

After a few seconds, the person on the other end seemed to decide that it was better to deal with Lois than ignore her and face her wrath later. She immediately snapped, "What do you mean you'll get back to me? You said you'd have the name by today!"

"C.K.!"

Clark left Lois to her conversation as he turned and saw Jimmy walking toward him from left side of the room. "Hey, Jimmy," he said, nodding.

His friend adjusted the camera around his neck and spied Lois's stormy expression as she turned slightly to the side. "Ooo," he said, wincing. "Who's in trouble today?"

"No idea," Clark replied. "Though it might be a source." In his time, Lois had just begun to build her connections amongst the more shady types of Metropolis, something he didn't like one bit. That thought made him frown as he spared another glance at her future self.

Jimmy was oblivious to his friend's contemplation and commented, "Well, I'm glad I'm not him." He shook his head and turned his attention on Clark, patting his shoulder. "So, ready for the charity ball tonight?"

No one said anything about a charity ball. "What?" he asked brilliantly.

Jimmy took his confused tone as being puzzled over something else entirely. "Cole's out sick today, so I have to fill in for him," he explained. "Though I don't mind shooting for the Society pages. It means a couple free flutes of champagne are in the mix." He turned thoughtful. "Too bad I can't bring Kara."

The charity ball was suddenly the least of his queries. "Kara?" he parroted, eyes wide. His cousin was back? Was she all right? He wanted to inquire after her well-being, but checked himself in time. Someone called out to him and he was grateful for the distraction.

"See you tonight, Clark."

He turned to find a woman in a short black miniskirt and tight purple blouse smiling at him. He blinked, wondering who she was, before he realized it was the same woman with the cropped blonde hair from earlier. She completely ignored Jimmy's greeting as she sauntered up to him.

"Uh…" He took a step back from her.

A muttered "shit" sounded behind him and there was a clatter, which Clark assumed was Lois's cell hitting her desk. Then she was at his side, glaring at the woman and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Hands off, Cat," she said.

Cat wasn't perturbed. If anything, she seemed amused. "Don't be so greedy," she replied. She gave Clark a slow once-over and he tried not to fidget too visibly. "Something this delish needs to be shared."

Lois made a shooing motion with her left hand. "Scram or you're on your own at the Black and White charity tonight," she threatened. She lifted her thumb and index finger, putting a little space in between. "We're this close."

Cat didn't buy it. "Please. You're going. The mayor's going to be there," she said nonchalantly.

Lois didn't bother denying it. "You should leave or you won't have enough time to put on your face."

"As opposed to what you slap on every morning?" Cat smirked and reached out to him, but Lois grabbed her wrist.

"Don't make me slap _you_," Lois muttered, squeezing her wrist before flinging it away.

Cat glared at her, but seemed to decide it wasn't worth the effort. She winked at Clark. "See you, pretty boy. I can't wait to see you in your tux." She waved her fingers as she walked towards the elevators, making sure to swing her hips.

"I will slap her one of these days," Lois stated, mostly to herself as she watched Cat go.

Jimmy piped up, "But didn't you already –"

"_She_ slapped me first!" Lois cried.

_O-kay._ Clark cleared his throat. "Should we head home? We need to get ready for the _charity_." He met Lois's gaze meaningfully, wondering if he could actually communicate his thoughts through a glance.

Lois's eyes widened as she glanced at Jimmy before she schooled her expression. "Right. I still need to figure out what to wear," she said casually. She walked back to her desk and tossed some things into her purse. "See you tonight, Jimmy."

"Yeah, sure," he replied. "See you." He nodded at Clark with a friendly smile. "Bye, C.K."

"Bye." Clark resisted the desire to ask about Kara and why she was hanging around Jimmy. He watched his photographer friend walk down the row of desks before heading for the hallway placed at the left corner of the bullpen's layout, back by the wall where the elevators were located. He felt it when Lois returned to his side.

"Perry gave the assignment to us last week when he found out Bruce had RSVPed," she explained. "We're the DP connection to him. Perry wants a few quotes, some good publicity for the paper, etc."

"Doesn't sound very exciting," he replied truthfully. He wasn't sure how he felt about seeing Bruce again either.

"Schmoozing among the upper class can get a little tiring," Lois agreed. She grabbed his overcoat off the coat rack that was part of the middle divider of their cubicles and handed it to him. She slipped on her coat as he did the same. "But it comes with the job."

"I didn't realize journalists schmooze," Clark replied as he followed Lois to the elevators.

"Rule number 3," Lois reminded him.

_Do whatever it takes to get the story._

The rule that always led to trouble. Clark sighed. "Just don't leave me alone with Bruce," he said.

"Why?" Lois asked, pressing the down button. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Afraid he's going to punch you?"

"No." The elevator dinged and Clark waited for Lois to go in first before he followed her. "I might get the tiniest urge to punch _him_."

–

"Ready, Smallville?" Lois called from the hallway.

Clark came out of the spare bedroom, fiddling with his cuff links. Why did he have such a problem with these little things? "I think so," he said. He turned, looked up, and froze.

"So?" She held out her arms slightly to the side and did one complete turn. "What do you think?"

Lois wore a strapless silk gown of dark blue, so dark that it could be mistaken for black if not for its reflected color in the light. Material flowed from the shirred bodice, draping on each hip and over the long loose gathered skirt. A small train at the back hem touched the lacquered bare wood floor. Three white stones were gathered at her bodice, right atop the middle of her chest.

Two barrettes of the same stone kept her bangs from hanging in her face. The front part of her hair was pleated to her right side, her long tresses falling in soft curls on her shoulders. A simple, yet entirely flattering hairstyle for her.

Sapphire studs were in her ears and a single matching gem on a thin braided chain dangled from her neck. A dark blue shawl was the last piece of her outfit. Instead of wrapping the shawl around her shoulders, she let the cloth drop to her elbows. One end of the long silk fabric draped lightly over her right wrist.

The same wonder he felt that day at the bottom of the staircase came back. He blinked and suddenly, she stood before him in a burnt orange dress and no less breathtaking.

His throat was dry. "You… look…" He looked her up and down slowly. She smiled at him.

_Stunning._

Orange faded back to blue and he was reminded she wasn't his.

"… great," he finished lamely. He dropped his gaze to his cuff links.

Lois didn't seem bothered by his less than stellar choice of words. "Thanks," she said. "You don't look so bad yourself."

His black tuxedo with charcoal grey vest and necktie were the only things he could see as he kept his eyes down. His hold fumbled as he tried to get the cuff links through the holes of his sleeves.

"Need help, handsome?"

He heard her approaching footfalls. "No, I –" His sentence stuck in his throat as she took his cuffs in her hands.

With deft fingers, Lois fastened the cuff links for his right, then left wrist. He slowly lifted his head to study her profile. She held his hands in hers for a moment longer, the ends of her shawl brushing his skin as she let go.

"Thank you," he said quietly, skin tingling.

A smile spread on her lips as her left hand reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Clark followed the movement and his eyes caught on the white gold glint of her wedding ring. The warmth that spread through his heart was becoming startlingly familiar. He glanced down at his empty left ring finger.

"Lois?" He waited until she looked up at him again before he asked, "Where's my– umm, his wedding ring?"

She paused. "You don't wear one," she said. She turned to the hallway mirror and checked her hair. "The traditional way, anyway."

He studied his open palm and curled it into a fist. "I didn't know there was more than one way to wear a ring," he commented.

"You wouldn't, would you, Farmer John?" She turned back and her gaze focused on a point below his head. He looked back, puzzled. "It's usually here –" She traced his neck with her index finger, making a 'u' that went under his collarbone. "– hanging from a thin silver chain."

Once her fingers fell away, his hand touched the spot she indicated and tried to imagine the feel of the circular metal against his skin. "Well, where is it now?" he asked.

Lois looked honestly puzzled, before the answer came to her. She bit her cheek as if fighting a grin as she replied, "It came off."

"How?" He couldn't imagine ever willingly parting with his wedding ring.

"I may have… ripped it off." His completely lost look was enough to prompt her to continue. "Sometimes I get a little… _enthusiastic_."

"Oh," he replied cluelessly.

Lois gave him a look, arching one eyebrow. He tilted his head, frowning. She continued staring before her comments clicked in his mind.

"… _we fell asleep after... after a certain endorphin-inducing activity."_

A deep red colored his cheeks instantaneously. "_Oh_." Like before, he tried not to think about the implications of her statement, but it already brought flashes of a green chaise longue, a revealing black top, and an uninhibited Lois.

"It's probably in the bedroom somewhere," Lois said.

"Why don't I –" He gestured down the hall and hurriedly walked past her and into the bedroom. Once in the safety of the room, he blew out a breath and tugged at his collar.

It kept getting thrown in his face, but there were just roads he couldn't go down. Even as he thought that, he used his x-ray vision to locate his future self's misplaced wedding ring. Clark spotted it underneath the dresser, near the wall. He bent down, uncaring if he creased his tuxedo. He reached under the chest of drawers until his fingers felt the cool metal. He pulled it out and caught the chain before it slipped off the ring.

_His_ wedding ring.

Clark cupped it reverently in his palms. All he did was stare for a few moments. Then he threaded the silver necklace through the ring again and used his heat vision to meld the broken chain back together. He held it up in front of his face, the white gold ring winking in the light of the room.

"You find it?"

Clark snapped out of his trance. He slipped the chain on as he got to his feet and tucked the necklace under his white dress shirt. "Yeah," he said. He met Lois's curious gaze and patted the spot on his collarbone where the ring rested. "Safe and sound."

Lois smiled and she reached out, brushing his forehead affectionately with her fingers. "Come on," she said. She pulled his glasses out of the blue clutch she held, and slipped them on his face with one hand. "The walk to the hotel will be nice. It's only a few blocks."

The cool metal began to match the temperature of his skin, and was getting heavier the longer his gaze lingered on Lois's face. "Lead the way," he said softly.

Lois nodded, turning and walking back into the hallway.

He could only follow her.

–

Clark and Lois didn't speak much on their elevator ride to the ground floor, like a silent blanket had fallen over them. He wondered how long he would have to live his future counterpart's life, and he couldn't begin to imagine what made Lois so quiet. A quiet Lois was never a good thing.

She finally spoke once they passed the doorman and emerged on the sidewalk outside their building. "I've been trying to figure out this future/past puzzle."

Clark was a bit ashamed it hadn't been on his thoughts more. "Did you figure out something?" he asked.

Lois slipped her hand through the crook of his arm and started walking in the direction of what he assumed was the hotel. She didn't say anything for a few minutes before emerging from her pondering. "Clark. Are you absolutely sure nothing happened aside from using the Legion ring?"

He had perused the day over and over again in his head. "Nothing worth spontaneously time traveling over," he replied honestly.

"How do you know?"

Clark glanced at her. There was a small frown on her face.

"Every little thing matters," she said. Her brow creased further with the line of her thoughts. "If there's anything I've learned from being an investigative reporter, it's that the reasons things happen can be anything. Sometimes the simplest of things – of moments – is the answer."

Clark didn't have proper time to muse on her words. Lois was already asking him another question. "What were you doing before the light hit you?"

"I was going home," he answered.

Her hand tightened briefly on his forearm. "And where was I?" she asked with the sort of nonchalant tone that wasn't really nonchalant.

Clark hesitated. He had avoided thinking about it, his decision not to meet Lois. It was a selfish and cowardly move, one motivated by both his unwillingness to see Lois's disappointment and his instinctive need to protect his own fragile emotions. Clark was brave enough to tackle the evils of the world, but that same valiant courage left him in matters of the heart. His heart was still healing, still trying to mend after the disaster with Lana. Things had to go back to the status quo. He hadn't been ready for that conversation – the conversation that would change _everything_ – with Lois.

_Why?_

Clark looked down at her, this future version of his best friend. This woman who would be his wife. She returned his gaze steadily, and there was something about the way she was looking at him, like she was daring him.

_Are you ready now?_

Clark shut his eyes. He knew one thing. He couldn't lie to her. Clark let out a breath. "You were at the coffee shop," he said, opening his eyes.

"Alone," she said flatly.

"Yes," he said, his gaze turning forward. A few doors down, he could see the flashes of cameras as photographers caught arriving guests on film. "Alone. You invited me for coffee," he confessed, "but I… I didn't go."

"You saw me," Lois stated. Confusion and hurt permeated every nuance of her tone. "You were there. But you didn't –" She cut herself off and shook her head like she couldn't understand what she was saying.

There were no such things as half-confessions and the words were already pouring out of him. "I watched you for awhile," he admitted. "I stood behind you, on the other side of the street. I had planned on coming, but then I saw you, sitting there –" How could he tell her that seeing her there, especially in the light of the lost forty-eight hours, had terrified him in a way he couldn't yet properly explain? "And I _couldn't._"

They approached the entrance to the Carmenita Rose, a privately owned hotel large in size, though comparatively smaller to the hotels that were part of a larger chain. Clark didn't want to go in yet, but Lois tugged him along, her confusion melting into a practiced smile as photographers noticed their arrival.

Clark felt helpless. "Lois –"

She shook her head, clearly not ready to talk, and he kept quiet, smiling awkwardly at the cameras but never stopping to pose. They followed the other guests trickling in towards the ballroom. But before they could cross into the threshold of the main event, Lois's cell vibrated. She opened her clutch and took out her phone. She read the text message before placing the cell back in her handbag.

Lois pulled her hand from his arm, taking a couple steps back. "I'm going to make a run to the powder room," she said, touching the barrettes at the side of her head. "I'll be right back."

Clark nodded, not quite sure what to do with himself. Lois was obviously upset, the very thing he hated to see. Should he push the issue? No, no. He should be giving her space, right?

Lois turned her back to him and adjusted her silk shawl. The edge that had been wrapped around her right wrist fell away. Everything in Clark stilled. His hand lifted of its own accord, suspended in the air. It couldn't be. The structure was slightly different, maybe a bit slimmer, not as large in width, but other than that, it retained its previous design. The silver gleamed, looking polished and new. A blue crystal filled the diamond shape in the center of the hollow oval, connected to the rest of the form by lines of silver.

But instead of blue, Clark saw a turquoise stone and a feeling of inevitability washed over him. Stuck in a future determined to upset everything he ever knew about his life, it was only a matter of time before he faced what he had so far avoided.

Clark took a few steps forward, his eyes never leaving her wrist. "Lois, that bracelet –"

"He crossed the street, Clark."

He paused at her abrupt statement, not fully comprehending its meaning at first. "What?"

Lois looked back at him over her shoulder, the intensity of her hazel eyes piercing him.

"He crossed the street."


	11. Closer

**Free Fall  
**Author: Krys Yuy  
Summary: Clark isn't willing to risk his heart again. But when Fate gives him a glimpse into his future, the only question is – how hard will he fall?  
Pairings/Characters: Clark/Lois, Chloe/Bart, Oliver/Dinah, Bruce/Zatanna, Justice League  
Warning: Spoilers up to _Hex_.  
Rating: PG-13/T  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes only.  
Special Thanks: To **drvr8** for being my unofficial, yet amazingly awesome beta for this chapter. Trust me, guys. This chapter would have sucked a lot more without his help. Thank you so much!  
Author's Notes: Once again, this chapter is double my usual word count goal, even more than last time! Another two-in-one! :P My update schedule may end up being every few weeks because of grad school homework. Sorry, guys. Please remember to check out my LiveJournal sidebar and/or Twitter for status updates.  
All right. Now to address Chapter 11. I'm really excited for you guys to read this one. The last scene? Planned (and rough draft written) from the _very_ beginning, all the way back in March 2009. No joke. A lot more clues going on. And just for anyone wondering, Chapter 12 will pick up right where Chapter 11 leaves off. Unfortunately though, it will be a long wait. Why? The next installment is an Interlude. Before you throw rotten fruit at me, it's a Lois POV chapter. It'll be considerably shorter than most chapters (if I do it right), but yeah. Wondering what's been going on in her head? You'll find out!  
Also, thank you very much to everyone who reviewed Chapter 10! I was insanely happy about my feedback from Chapter 10. I'm not joking. Almost everyone left some really kind and thoughtful comments. You rock: EdwardBella4ever17, L'Ecrivaine, Evergreen, AdriGoddess, drvr8, cloisharley, Ily18, TheGryfter, f1ameseeker, Aaron Leach, superlc529, Hakkyou Kuusou, Mayicita, Mana-Reader, jazzy lane, Hittokiri, jamie, Dannie Tomlinson, Seersha, Ironcow, and Karmalady94. Remember, if you leave a review and you have a FanfictionNet account, I will respond to you. (Eventually. :P)  
Since I'm going to milk this for all its worth (yes, I'm completely shameless), it's my 22nd birthday today (10/12)! Y'know, leaving a review would be a really awesome present. Just sayin'. ;P Maybe comment on what you liked (or didn't like), what you think will happen next… or tell me what you think of the last scene. :P It would really make my day. :)**  
THANK YOU** again to my very kind reviewers and readers! I really, really hope you enjoy this installment. Without further adieu, please read, review, and enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 11: Closer

"_He crossed the street."_

Lois left him staring after her, a stunned look on his face.

"_Sometimes the simplest of things – of moments – is the answer."_

Was that it? Was that moment his answer?

Clark blinked and Lois's figure disappeared around the corner of the hallway, away from the entrance of the event ballroom. He almost gave in to the urge to run after her and demand answers. Then he remembered the fresh hurt floating in the back of her closed off expression. He would give her space. After all, that was what she wanted, right?

Her excuse to go to the restroom was a pretense for her desire to get away from him. The way her attitude had shifted the moment he had confessed his decision that night was all the proof he needed. And truth be told, he needed time to himself too.

The facts were simple.

He had walked away. Her Clark had not.

_It's not simple at all._

Clark wandered further down the hallway, away from the people entering the ballroom and chatting. Just as he reached the corner where Lois had turned, he stopped. The dark blue of the hotel carpet's rose pattern caught his eye, reminding him of the sparkling crystal inset on Lois's silver bracelet.

A bracelet that, in his time, was tucked away in his room, all but forgotten. Despite having it all these years, he could count on one hand the number of times he had ever looked at it. Otherwise, it never left the hidden compartment in the wooden chest at the end of his bed. Kyla's grandfather had told him to give it to the person he was destined to be with.

Apparently, he had.

He and _Lois_… destined?

The little voice in the back of his head returned with a vengeance, batting at him impatiently.

_What else has this future been telling you?_

An involuntary smile flickered across his face before another part of his thoughts reminded him of the one person he had ever considered giving the bracelet to. But that had only been in the innocent dawn of their romance. Since then, his relationship with Lana had gone through so many twists and turns that it was unrecognizable from what it once was. After he let her go and she had run to Lex, the bracelet had gone a long time without seeing the light of day.

The last and most recent time he had removed the bracelet from its hiding place was the day after a certain redheaded alien had wreaked havoc on the men of Metropolis. He remembered the sleek feel of the burnished silver, the smooth round surface of the turquoise stone. He also remembered feeling, with absolute certainty and resignation, that the bracelet would never be worn again.

Even when Lana returned for Chloe's wedding and everything that happened after, the bracelet never crossed his mind. He had been too wrapped up in the past, feeling like he used to when things were so much simpler.

Stepping into the past was easy.

It had hurt to even think about the future. Looking forward was harder than it was looking back, and so, instead of taking that first step towards her, Clark had chosen to remain stagnant. Keeping things at the status quo meant his heart was safe. And safety was all he wanted after the pain and grief he gone through with Lana at the end.

Clark regretted hurting Lois, but even if he had gone, either way, he would have disappointed her. It had been a no-win situation, and the simple truth was he hadn't been ready.

Evidently, it was the exact opposite situation for his future self.

What did that _mean_? What were the cosmos trying to tell him? Could his personal decision not to meet Lois really be a point of contention within the universe? Had his choice been the wrong one? But then, how had his future self gotten past the pain? The fear?

He had to know. He had to talk to her, see if she could help him make sense of it all.

Restless, Clark rounded the corner to wait outside the bathroom for Lois when a giggle caught his attention. He looked up and stopped in his tracks at the sight of the couple a little further down the hallway. Their faces hovered close to each other's and Clark realized he had stumbled upon a private moment.

"S-sorry!" he stammered, already walking back the other way.

"Don't be so shy, Clark."

At the sound of his name, Clark reluctantly turned around. The one who had called to him was the same blonde woman from the Planet earlier that day. She gave him a winning smile even as she nodded and replied to whatever her companion whispered to her. Clark kept his hearing in check, and returned the brief nod the brown haired stranger gave when he passed him, all the while wondering why he was leaving him alone with his date.

"Well, well, well."

Clark's attention turned back to the blonde woman – what was her name again? The neckline of her black halter evening gown plunged down, reflecting her bold and forward attitude. He inched back slightly as she slunk towards him.

"Don't you look gorgeous." She winked and he fidgeted.

"Hi, umm… Cat." He glanced at the bathroom door located at the far end of the hallway, wondering what Lois was doing.

"Did you lose the ball and chain?" Cat asked, laying a hand on his shoulder. "She usually attaches herself to your hip at these shindigs until you can ditch her."

"You didn't see her go by you?" Clark asked. He leaned back and removed her hand from his shoulder. Lois would have had to pass Cat and her date if she were heading to the restroom.

Cat wasn't deterred by his lack of attention. "I was preoccupied," she reminded him.

"Right. Shouldn't you be getting back to your _date_?" he hinted, stepping away from her.

"He's a big boy," Cat said with a careless shrug. "I'll see him soon enough." She looked at him and he was disconcerted to see the seriousness lurking behind her playful expression. "I'd rather know what has those big blue eyes of yours so tortured." She clicked her tongue. "What did Lane do now?"

Irritation prickled along his spine. "Excuse me," he said politely. He stepped around Cat, but before he could go further, she placed a hand on his forearm.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said. She dropped her hand when he turned to look at her. "I'm all ears, if you need them."

She seemed sincere, dropping her earlier pretense. Lois still wasn't back yet, and Clark found himself speaking before he could curb the words coming out of his mouth, needing a third party's input. "Say you made a decision, only to find out later that it was the… the wrong one," he began.

"Ooooh. So you're in Lane's doghouse?" Cat clarified, nodding. "Go on."

He frowned, but continued, "What would you do to… fix it?"

Cat paused briefly before she answered, "Deal with the hand your dealt." She shrugged one bare shoulder. "You can't fix the past, but you can work with what you got in the present." Her gaze became distant. "You have to fight to make it right, because you never know when the rug will be yanked out from under you and everything is gone."

To Clark's surprise, she started to tear up slightly. Clark placed a hand on her shoulder, concerned, but she shook her head and waved him off.

Cat straightened and said, "If life gives you an opportunity for a second chance, grab it with both hands and never let go." Her tone was quiet, but underlined by hints of determination and passion.

_A second chance?_

Was this his second chance?

"I have to get back to my– Lois," he said, glancing at the restroom door. "I'm sure your date is wondering why you're spending so much time with me. He must be missing you."

"A date is a date is a date," she said, fingers brushing along the string of pearls around her neck. "They come and go. Wish more of them were keepers, like you."

"Cat…"

She fluffed her hair and waved off his sympathetic look. "Not all of us can be lucky like Lane," she said. "Don't tell her I said that." She brought her index finger to her lips and winked. She checked the clock hanging on the wall. "That's my cue. I have a handsome playboy billionaire to track down."

Cat checked herself out in the large rectangular mirror hanging on the wall, lightly touching her cheeks. "What do you think? Is my make-up okay?" she asked. She turned towards him, but before he could answer, she lifted up her chest. "How about the cleavage? Perky enough?"

Clark looked up and coughed. "Umm… your make-up is fine."

Cat laughed when he kept his gaze determinedly on her face. "You know, as much as I'd love to steal you away, she'd kill me," she said offhandedly. "She's Mad Dog for a reason."

Clark had no doubt about that. He gave her a tiny smile. "Thanks," he said, "for your advice."

She returned his smile with a genuine one of her own. Then she waved her fingers and walked away; with a sway of her hips, she disappeared around the corner moments later, leaving him to his thoughts.

Clark set his shoulders and walked further down to stand next to the wall by the women's bathroom. He'd be right there for Lois when she walked outside. Cat's advice replayed in his head.

Maybe this was his chance. To fix things.

Another possibility loomed in the back of his mind. If he had made a different choice than his future self, then that meant they were on different paths. Different paths meant different futures.

Perhaps he had been sent to the wrong place. Maybe… this had never been his future at all.

"Dude, you look like someone just ran over your puppy."

Clark blinked as someone clapped him on the shoulder. Bart grinned at him, looking surprisingly formal and stylish in a black tuxedo, complete with crimson vest and tie. He also spotted Chloe and Oliver at the opposite end of the hallway. The two blondes were talking quietly, heads down.

Clark was pretty sure his smile was strained. "It feels like it," he admitted, sick and his heart heavy with all the implications of one simple sentence. He didn't even have it in him to panic at the appearance of his two close friends, both of whom were out of the loop about his predicament.

"Look, man, we'll figure this out," Bart said, tone reassuring. He tugged at his collar a bit uncomfortably.

Clark was at a loss of what to do. On one hand, this future had never quite made sense. It always seemed more like a dream, a vision not meant for him. But to have his suspicion confirmed hurt more than it should have. Something about Bart's sentence pestered him, breaking through his depressed haze. He ran his friend's words over again in his head and he blinked.

"What do you mean 'we'll figure this out'?" Clark repeated.

Bart tilted his head, puzzled, and replied, "Y'know, sending you back!" He was quick to add, "By the way, I totally knew something was off on Saturday."

"Wait." Clark held up his hands. "You –"

"We know."

Chloe came up behind Bart, laying a hand on her fiancée's shoulder. Bart smiled and kissed the back of her other hand. Her lips curved up slightly, but her gaze focused on her best friend. Chloe scrutinized Clark critically, both eyes the same lively blue, and he realized she was wearing a contact in her right eye. She wore a spaghetti strap evening gown matching the dark red of Bart's ensemble with her hair pinned up in a complicated twist, a few curls falling to her shoulders. She seemed unconcerned about displaying her scar and he saw that it continued all the way down her neck.

Concern for her and anger at her assailant added to Clark's already growing pile of emotions – confusion, guilt, anxiety being only a few.

"My favorite cousin paid us a little visit," Chloe continued and Clark suddenly had the answer as to where Lois disappeared to the day before. "She brought us up to speed, hoped we could help."

Why had Lois gone to Chloe and Bart without telling him? Clark frowned. "She didn't tell me that," he said, glancing at the bathroom door.

"Hmm." Chloe raised an eyebrow. "I saw a certain gossip queen walk by. Is there something you need to get off your chest?"

"Not really," Clark lied, looking away.

"I just remembered something I need to run by green bean," Bart said when Chloe gave him a look. He gestured towards the now deserted hallway and Clark assumed Oliver was around the corner attending the main event. "I'll let you two… talk." He kissed Chloe on the cheek. "I'll be back soon, babe."

Chloe smiled and squeezed his hand before she let him go. "Not too soon," she replied, turning her calculating gaze back on Clark. "There's plenty to talk about."

He knew that expression. Chloe and Lois had eerily similar looks when they were about to corner someone. "Yes?" he said, smiling awkwardly. Bart was already at the other end of the hallway, leaving Clark to fend for himself.

Clark couldn't help his internal wince as his gaze went to Chloe's scar again. It was hard to ignore.

If Chloe noticed, she didn't say anything. Instead, she stated, "I checked out your story with a colleague. There was a time rift in Lois and Clark's apartment early Saturday morning. Subtle, but there."

"You 'checked out' my story?" Clark asked. Hadn't he proved himself by succumbing to the truth spell?

A small dose of bitterness twisted her neutral expression. "I'm not as trusting as I used to be," she said.

It was almost like he couldn't recognize her. "What happened, Chloe?" he asked. Warning bells went off in his head and he added, "Actually, you don't have to- I mean, you shouldn't answer-" He sighed. "You're different."

She nodded. "Six years does that," she replied. Her hand came up to the part of her scar that passed her temple.

"You won't tell me." It wasn't a question; it was an observation. Though Lois had warned him, Clark had to admit there was a part of him that still wanted to save her.

"Lois and I had a silly conversation at my bridal shower," Chloe began. "She asked me if I had the chance to do it all over again, would I change anything?" She locked gazes with him, solemn and serious. "I told her no."

Clark took that in; how it nearly mirrored his exchange with Cat. "Did you really have that conversation?"

"Strangely appropriate, right?" She cracked a small grin, but shook her head. "Yeah, we did. I don't know what made her ask it." Her expression sobered with the direction of her thoughts. "Everything that happened that year… There's a lot I regret, but I wouldn't change the outcome." Her fingers flitted briefly to her scar again. "It was the wake-up call I needed to get my life on track. Plus it led me to who I needed most." Her gaze turned distant and for some reason, Clark knew she was talking about Bart.

He watched as her face softened. "You really love him," he commented quietly.

"I do." There was such conviction behind those two words that it couldn't be anything but the truth. "He was my light in the darkness." Her next words made him look away. "Just like Lois is for you."

_Lois._ Her dispassionate expression flashed through his mind.

"_He crossed the street."_

An uneasy feeling crept over him as he glanced yet another time at the entrance to the restroom. Something was wrong.

"What is it?" Chloe asked.

"Lois…" Clark's frown grew concerned. "She's taking too long." He used his x-ray vision to scan the bathroom and found it completely empty. "She's not there."

Chloe was already on her cell phone. "What happened?" she asked him.

"She said she was just going to the restroom, but that was awhile ago," he replied, looking around the hall with one ear on Chloe's phone. It rang and rang, but no answer.

"She's not answering her phone," Chloe said after the seventh ring, worried. She hit the speed dial for another number.

Clark shook his head and concentrated, trying to locate Lois's voice. He filtered through the voices at the party and throughout the hotel. He sifted through the conversations – the giggling, talking, arguing – before extending his hearing to the street.

Nothing.

Clark curbed his hearing, returning it to normal. Chloe looked anxious and when he shook his head, she frowned.

Bart appeared at her side suddenly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I checked all the floors. Lois isn't there," he informed them, closing his cell and dropping it in his pocket. "That's also a negative from the ballroom. Ollie hasn't seen her either."

"What about Bruce?" Chloe asked.

"He hightailed it back to Gotham," Bart replied. He shrugged when they both shot him questioning looks. "Ollie said he smiled for a few pics, dropped off a check, but then made some excuse before he took off."

The first tendrils of panic started to seep into Clark's already anxious state of mind. It was that text message Lois received. She had come up with an excuse right after reading it. At the time, he thought it a pretense for wanting space from him. Now, though, Clark suspected the text came from a source. Lois had spent half the day trying to track down her informant before chewing him out.

_Think, Clark, think._

A source would want to meet somewhere quiet, dark, somewhere no one could see. But it would be close. Close enough that Lois would have been in and out without him noticing a thing, if her plan had gone right. Not in the hotel.

_Outside._

Without a word to Chloe or Bart, Clark sped out into the back alley. "Lois!" he shouted. He looked up and down the dirty backstreet, but it was stranded. "Lois!"

"Let go of me!"

Clark's head snapped up, spotting Lois's struggling figure on the roof two buildings down. He didn't even have a chance to superspeed – in the next moment, she fell over the ledge, screaming, and he almost froze.

"LOIS!"

Clark sped to the bottom of the building, never taking his eyes off her. He took a split-second to gauge exactly where she was falling, bent his legs, and _pushed_.

Lois's scream cut off as he caught her and her arms immediately encircled his neck. She held onto him tightly. Clark was heedful of Lois's human body and took care to cushion her as much as possible. The power behind his jump was so strong that his collision with her barely fazed his momentum. He held her shaking body close and bent his knees again as he settled on the ledge, so as to better absorb the landing impact for Lois's sake.

Lois's face pressed against his neck as Clark looked around the roof. Her blue shawl lay ripped on the ground next to an unconscious male. The stranger was scruffy and he wore dark clothes – jeans, a T-shirt, and a zipped hoodie. Clark narrowed his eyes but turned his attention to the woman in his arms.

Lois sensed his stare and pulled back. Her hazel eyes met his and she laughed, though it was shaky. "Your timing's a little off," she said breathlessly.

His eyebrows knit in concern. "Lois, are you okay?" he asked.

"Give me a second to catch my breath," she said, her head lolling against his neck again. "I'm a little sore, but that's it."

Suddenly aware of just how high they were, he stepped down off the ledge to the floor of the roof. "Do you need anything?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine, just –" Lois finally registered his appearance. Frowning, she said, "I need you to superspeed us where no one can see."

His expression turned puzzled. "Why?"

"Just do it!" she snapped, jolting him into action.

Clark did as he was told, and in the next moment, he was gently setting Lois on her feet in the dim empty stairwell. Within a second, he sped outside to tie the criminal up against an air vent and made it back to Lois as she swayed on her heels. Clark quickly steadied her by holding on to her shoulders. Her gaze was still a little sour as she looked at him, and he stared back, completely befuddled. What did he do this time?

"What?" he asked.

She crossed her arms, looking even more intimidating with her disheveled hair, the flush from her adrenaline beginning to leave her cheeks. "You're not wearing the suit!"

_That's it?_ "I'm sorry," he said. He couldn't help but feel a little cross. He had been worried, and that's what she had to say. "That really wasn't at the top of my priority list."

She sighed. "You can't go around as if no one will catch you," she said. "Ever since you came on the scene as the Blur, then Superman, every paper, TV station, radio station – they all have reporters on the roofs trying to track you down." She touched his frames before her hand cupped his cheek. "I'm trying to protect your identity. No one can know what Clark Kent is really capable of."

"_No one can ever know my name."_

Clark closed his eyes briefly before opening them again. "I know," he said sincerely. He definitely should have known better, especially after what happened to him in the timeline he had reversed. But the only thing on his mind had been Lois.

Lois exhaled slowly. The tension left her shoulders and she hugged him unexpectedly. "Thank you," she breathed.

He wrapped his arms around her back, squeezing just so. "I'm glad you're okay," he whispered back.

When she pulled away, he let her go and his arms fell to his sides. She started to head up the stairs and he grabbed her wrist. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"I need to grab my shawl and clutch before we make our very late appearance in the ballroom," she said as if it were obvious. "We'll be the most fashionable ones at the party."

"Let me." Clark didn't wait for her answer, but zipped to the rooftop and back, holding both her items in either hand. He handed over her clutch, but instead of passing on her wrap, he carefully wrapped it around her exposed shoulders. He fingered the end that had been ripped in what he assumed was her struggle with the unknown male.

Clark released it and said, "That's too bad."

Lois shrugged. "Clothes can be fixed," she replied.

She turned her head slightly, and her right cheek was exposed under the flickering light bulb in the stairwell. Clark grit his teeth at the red mark marring her skin. He placed his hand on her shoulder to keep her still and looked her up and down, first with regular vision and then with his x-ray vision.

He didn't see any other injuries, but he said, "Lois, you should go to a hospital."

"I'm perfectly fine," she said, dismissing his advice.

"He hit you. Your cheek is all red," he pointed out. He suppressed his streak of anger at the criminal unconscious on the roof. "How are you going to explain that?"

"It's called make-up, Smallville," Lois retorted. "Get me to a mirror and I'll do my magic."

"Lois…"

"I'm fine. Just a little scratch," she said. "Besides, we have work to do."

"Bruce isn't there," Clark informed her quickly. "He got called back to Gotham."

"Really?" Lois asked, intrigued. Clark could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

He tried to distract her. "So we don't have to go to the charity, and you can go to the hospital."

"Nice try," she said with a smirk. "I still have a mayor to question."

"Lois, that was a really close call," Clark said seriously. What if he hadn't gotten to her? He was supposed to keep her safe for his future counterpart.

Lois waved the notion away. "I've had plenty of other, more dangerous close ca –" she cut herself off as she saw his narrowed eyes. "You know what? We don't need to get into that."

Trouble still seemed to follow her everywhere. He sighed. "You leap before you look," he said. "At least that hasn't changed."

Lois's smile lit up innocently and Clark knew without a doubt that she wouldn't back down. "One hour, Lois," he said firmly. "Then you're getting some rest."

"Okay, okay," she acquiesced. "Time's a wastin', Smallville."

Clark was sure she was simply appeasing him so that they could get to the charity faster. He shook his head. He would just have to keep an eye on her.

–

When Lois bumped into him for the third time when she turned around, she sent him back to the table where Chloe and Bart were sitting with a sharp reprimand. Then she went back into the crowd, searching for an opportunity to get her quotes.

Clark hoped he didn't look too sulky as he approached his friends. After dropping Lois off at the restroom in the hallway of the Carmenita Rose ballroom, he had called the police anonymously about the criminal on the rooftop. Lois said it hadn't been her source – somebody had come in his place and blindsided her.

Clark had found it strange Lois didn't want to immediately find out who the man was. She replied she would have to wait until the man was conscious again. Till then, she would work on her article.

And so, Clark found himself shadowing Lois at every moment, making sure she wasn't showing any signs of pain. Until she got exasperated enough to send him away.

Bart was smirking, but Chloe looked contemplative. Clark sat at the table without saying anything, his eyes already tracking Lois's figure from his new vantage point. She blended in effortlessly as she made small talk, all the while keeping an eye on her intended target. She smiled at the woman she was talking to and his gaze was drawn to the red mark he knew was there, but carefully hidden.

If he had arrived only seconds later– His heart clenched and he sucked in a breath sharply. He had to be vigilant. This was Lois, after all. Until he returned home, he would have to do all he could to make sure she was safe.

No matter if this was his future or not, she was still Lois. His friend, his partner, his… His eyes went from her wedding ring to her silver bracelet.

_Not his._

This Lois belonged to someone else. His Lois was back in his time, hurt by something _he_ did. Or, to put it accurately, something he _didn't_ do.

"You have that look on your face," Chloe said, drawing his gaze to her, "the conflicted, signature Clark Kent look of the early 2000s."

He made a face. "Hey." He straightened in his seat and crossed his arms. "I think I'm entitled to a little brooding."

She shrugged, tilting her head as she regarded him over the rim of her champagne flute. "Something tells me this doesn't have anything to do with trying to find the ruby slippers that will get you home," she said, finishing her drink.

"They were silver in the book, babe," Bart said, leaning back in his chair.

Clark and Chloe both looked at him.

"What?" he said at their skeptical expressions. "I read."

Chloe regarded him dubiously. "You don't even read mission briefs," she said. She raised an eyebrow. "You remember that from the Terminator series."

Bart blinked. "You know what?" He stood up and took her empty glass. "I'll get you another one of these, bright eyes," he said, taking off to the bar.

Chloe shot a small smirk at her fiancée's back before she turned to Clark and asked, "Care to share with the rest of the class?" Her gaze drifted to her cousin.

He was quiet as his eyes went to Lois as well. "This future is just… a little confusing," he said. _That's an understatement._

"This future isn't so bad, is it?"

"No, it's not bad at all," Clark replied. Lois laughed, resplendent in her gown of midnight blue. He smiled ruefully. "That's the problem."

"It's everything you never thought it would be," Chloe concluded.

That same sick, empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Maybe this isn't my future," he said quietly. He didn't take his eyes off Lois. He could see her practically circling the mayor, waiting for a chance to strike.

"What makes you say that?"

His right fist clenched at his side. "Lois's Clark – the Clark of this future – he crossed the street," he said. "I didn't."

Chloe frowned. "Is this the infamous coffee date?"

"You know?" When he had walked away, Clark knew he wouldn't ever tell anyone.

"I've heard both sides of that particular occasion," she said, looking like she knew more than she let on. She shook her head. "Do you really think, after going to all the trouble of sending you to the future, that the powers that be sent you to the wrong place?"

Some of the tension released from his shoulders, but not much.

"I'm sure all the clues are there, Clark, if you let yourself acknowledge them," Chloe said. She made sure he was looking at her when she added, "And for what it's worth… I have never seen you as happy as you are with Lois." Nostalgia touched her smile. "I think I knew a long time ago."

"Yeah?"

"She's the only one who could ever bring such a big smile out of you," Chloe replied, sounding both fond and amused.

That prompted a smile from him and Clark's gaze turned back to the woman who turned his whole world upside down.

Lois had nabbed her chance and the mayor seemed only a bit disquieted before his face smoothed over into his politician smile. Clark watched, fascinated, as Lois's polite expression turned more determined as she asked her questions. She had taken a notepad and pen out of her clutch and wrote down whatever the mayor was saying.

"Man, you got it _bad_," Bart said, addressing Clark as he returned to the table. He laughed as he sat down, following Clark's line of sight. He placed a new champagne flute in front of Chloe and then entwined his fingers with hers on the table.

Clark shook his head at Bart's words, tearing his eyes away from Lois to check on his watch. He successfully resisted the urge to stammer. "It's been over an hour. I'm taking Lois home," he said.

"You checking out already, Stretch?" Bart asked. "Come on, give your lady a spin on the dance floor." He stood and tugged on Chloe's hand. His fiancée followed with a grin and let Bart twirl her under his fingers.

Lois's conversation with the mayor seemed to be winding to a close, and Clark stood up. "I think I will," he replied. He started walking towards her when Chloe called his name.

"Hey, Clark."

"Hmm?" He looked over at his best friend.

Chloe had stopped and so Bart had to as well, their entwined hands suspended between their bodies. "I almost forgot. Did you find out anything in your castle of ice?"

"Sorry?"

She tilted her head at his confused expression. "Lois told me she was going to take you to the Fortress."

His forehead creased. "What fortress?" he asked, frowning. He looked back at where Lois was standing, but she wasn't there anymore.

"What fortress?" Chloe echoed, mirroring his frown.

Clark looked around the ballroom, trying to spot a familiar head of brown hair. Chloe cleared her throat, as if waiting for something, and he blinked. What were they talking about again?

Oh well. It wasn't important. He had to find Lois. Chloe was opening her mouth to say something else, but he interrupted, "Sorry, Chloe. I'll get back to you."

Then he went off in search of Lois without another word to her or Bart. The mayor was occupied with a new ring of people, and Clark wandered in the other direction. He slipped into the well-dressed crowd, mumbling hellos at the few people who greeted him, even though he didn't know who they were. Finally, he found her towards the back of the room. She was flipping through her notepad and she grabbed a champagne flute off a passing waiter's tray without even looking.

"Lois."

She didn't look up. "Hey, Smallville." She drank more than half the glass in one gulp and crossed off one of her notes. "Not that it's a surprise, but the mayor has no comment on the attempted robberies. He's just 'thankful and appreciative' Superman stopped them before anyone was seriously hurt." She muttered under her breath.

"Ah." Clark was only half-listening. Now that he was up close to her again, he stared at the spot where the strike had left its mark on her cheek. Lois had done a good job of covering it up, but he could still detect its faint traces.

The band started playing a slow song, one Clark was unfamiliar with. Lois paused in her writing and smiled behind her champagne though, and he wondered if there was some special significance to it. He gazed at her smile, and before he knew it, he was holding his hand out to her. She shot him a look; he nodded towards the dance floor.

Lois eyed him speculatively. Then she placed her now empty champagne glass on a nearby table and took his hand. He smiled brightly in return and she shook her head, fondness lighting the edges of her own smile.

Clark led her to the lacquered dance floor. He gently spun her into his arms and she let out a startled laugh. She fit against him perfectly and he was only a little surprised when she immediately relaxed in his embrace.

The soft notes encircled them as they swayed from side to side; steps simple enough that he didn't trip over himself. A certain kind of serenity flowed over him even with the noise and prattle of the charity's attendees. He closed his eyes, one hand on Lois's back and the other holding her left one. The side of her head leaned against his cheek and he felt the whisper of her hair.

Clark opened his eyes to look down at his companion. Lois's expression was serious, her gaze nostalgic and somber.

"Lois?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

She blinked and looked at him. Her gaze trailed over his face, like she was trying to see underneath his skin. "A small dose of lethargy just came my way, that's all," she said airily. "It's been a long day."

He stopped himself just before his knuckles grazed her injured cheek. "I'll take you home," he said instead.

Clark expected her to put up a fight, but Lois only gave one brief nod. "I think I need some shut-eye," she said.

Was that a note of enthusiasm in her voice? That couldn't be right. Clark shook his head, and decided to be grateful he didn't have to squabble with her. He could see the fatigue swimming in the back of her eyes.

Clark stopped dancing and took a step back. His gaze wandered over her elegant evening gown. It still took his breath away.

"Let's go," he said, catching her hand.

Lois allowed him to take her away, and he couldn't help but wonder what was going on in her head. Because when Lois was quiet, it meant her mind was preoccupied. He hoped whatever it was wouldn't lead to trouble. Lois adjusted her hold and the silver metal of her bracelet sent a prickle along his arm.

"_He crossed the street."_

His hand tightened on hers.

–

"What did you mean before?"

Lois kicked off her heels in the hallway closet, not looking back as her hands came up to take out her sapphire stud earrings. "Before?" she parroted, disappearing behind her bedroom door.

Assuming she was about to change, Clark didn't follow her. "When you said my timing was a little off," he answered from the hallway.

Clark took off his own dress shoes and placed them neatly in the closet, fixing Lois's heels so they stood upright and not upended. He placed his watch and glasses in the bowl on top of the tall side table. He rummaged through his pockets and also dropped his cell phone on the wooden surface.

"Oh, that?" Lois asked, her voice muffled behind the white doorway. "It didn't mean anything."

Clark sped in and out of the spare bedroom, now in a fresh pair of pajama pants and a plain black T-shirt he figured Lois left for him in the bathroom. Still frowning at Lois's answer, he hung up the pieces of his tuxedo ensemble in the hallway closet and closed the door. His fingers absentmindedly traced the outline of the ring hanging around his neck, hidden underneath his shirt.

"_Lois_," he said, leaning back against the closet door. There had been something about the tremulous way she had said it, how the terror had taken a second too long to leave her eyes. "I know it meant something. Something about your Clark."

"It was nothing, Smallville," Lois said. She opened her bedroom door and walked out, revealing her new nightwear – his football jersey plus the bottom half of her pajamas from the night before. The bunny print pajama pants did nothing to distract him from the alluring picture she made in his old championship jersey. Her hair tumbled loosely around her shoulders, free from the white stone barrettes.

He remembered her irritated countenance the morning after Chloe and Jimmy's engagement party. Wearing only his jersey, she had been rather cute; though that was something he kept to himself. Combined with her hangover, Clark could only be amused then.

Seeing her in his jersey now elicited an entirely different reaction. Clark swallowed and when his eyes locked with Lois's, there was a knowing gleam in her expression. She smiled and shrugged, tugging at the ends of the red and gold fabric.

"Keep it in your pants, Smallville," she said lightly, thoroughly horrifying him. She casually walked down the hallway and turned into the living room, switching on the lamp in the corner next to the bookcase. It must have been on its lowest setting because the light added only a dim glow to the otherwise dark room.

Lois plopped down unceremoniously on the couch and said, "This is one of my favorite shirts, and I need to be a little closer to him."

Guilt and compassion poured in and buried his embarrassment, though the hot burn in his cheeks still took awhile to fade. He watched her from the hallway. "Lois," he said softly. She didn't turn around. He took a few steps and leaned his shoulder against the archway, his silhouette melding with the darkness.

Clark took a deep breath, wanting to somehow repair the hurt he caused her.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't cross the street."

Lois didn't say anything, she didn't even move. Clark stared at the back of her head, brow furrowing in concern. Why did he always mess up everything when it came to Lois's feelings?

His left fist contracted and loosened at his side. "I sent her a text message. I lied and said I was swamped with work," he confessed. "It was easier than admitting the truth, easier than letting her in."

He remembered standing on the curb, gazing at her seated figure, watching as she looked for him. He could almost feel the cold wind biting at his cheeks again, the hesitation as his fingers hovered over the keypad of his phone.

"… I was scared," he admitted. "Scared of hurting her… scared of hurting you." He kept waiting for her to say something, anything, but Lois remained uncharacteristically quiet. She still hadn't turned around and it unsettled him. He whispered, "Scared of hurting again."

Clark looked down at the ground, at the faint light on the carpet. He remembered too keenly his sense of loss, of being empty and hollow, hurting so much it felt like he couldn't breathe. "I can't… go through that again," he continued, shaking his head as if that would erase the pain. "I can't _lose_ –" The tension in his chest tightened and he forced himself to take a few calming breaths.

"I can't…" Clark's gaze returned to the back of her head. "… risk everything again."

She was quiet for several seconds, stretching the uncomfortable silence and Clark wished she would get angry and shout, let him know what she was thinking. She sighed and instead of calling him a jackass or a fool, she asked, "Why do you think you're here, Smallville?"

Why he was here?

"_Do you really think, after going to all the trouble of sending you to the future, that the powers that be sent you to the wrong place?"_

That was the crux of everything, wasn't it?

"I think…" he began slowly, "I'm here to figure out…" He scrutinized her long locks of dark brown hair. "… what I want." She turned slightly and he took in her profile. "What I feel."

"And what do you want?" she asked quietly. Her right hand came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as she turned her head towards him. The silver bracelet on her wrist gleamed in the light of the single lamp.

"I…" Shadows created by the lamplight darkened her features and made her gaze all the more intimidating. "I want…"

Clark found himself standing on the brink of the ledge in his mind. He looked around. Memories of his life before his time jump – with his parents, friends, Lana – played on the boundaries of his imagined realm. Down below, beneath the ledge, was a sea of white emptiness.

Clark opened the eyes he didn't know he had closed. "I want to know what you meant," he said. The ledge faded away and he was once again on solid ground.

The room was dark, but Clark didn't miss the flash of disappointment on her face. His stomach clenched.

"I was joking," she said, facing forward again so that she was looking at the blank television screen. "You saved me in the nick of time, like always."

"But his timing is better," Clark surmised, knowing his future self was always steps ahead of him. "He would have caught you before you even fell off."

"That would have depended on where he was in the world," Lois said, tilting her head back against the couch. "He's not a superhero for my exclusive use. The world needs him, too." In the pale light, he could see her eyes were closed.

"But?" Clark prompted. There was something she wasn't saying.

She seemed to weigh her words carefully. "… but Clark always seems to know when I'm in trouble," she continued. "At first, I thought it was sheer luck – my guardian angel in Kryptonian form." She lifted her head and twisted her body around, her folded arms resting along the length of the couch, her chin atop her hands. "But later, he told me he could hear my heartbeat."

"Your heartbeat?"

"No matter where he is, Clark can pick out my heartbeat," she explained, smiling to herself. "When he's not around, when he's out being Superman, he listens in – he told me it's like having the radio on in the background. It's always there, but he doesn't think about it until it changes drastically." She must have remembered something because she laughed. "He said that's how he knows where to find me. How he knows when I'm in trouble."

_No matter where?_ That was a strong statement. From what he gathered, as Superman, his future self could be thousands of miles away at any given time. But apparently, amidst the miscellany of the world's sounds, his future counterpart had the ability to identify Lois's heartbeat.

If his future self had been at the ball tonight, he would have listened in when he thought something was wrong, and he would have heard Lois's elevated heart rate.

"How?" Clark blurted out, wanting to know. "I can hear someone's heartbeat, but they have to be in close proximity. I can't imagine –" There were hundreds of things he could hear, but elevate that to a global level, and then still being able to recognize one tiny sound… His own hearing abilities didn't have such a range.

Lois seemed to read his insecurity because she further explained, "He can't do that for just anyone Clark."

The skill became all the more appealing. Clark persisted. "How did he learn?"

"He never did tell me how," she said, almost like she was talking to herself. "But he had me help him perfect it."

His curiosity rose higher. "How?"

A glimmer of a smirk crossed her lips. "You wouldn't want me to teach you," she commented.

Apprehension tinged his curiosity, but he pushed further. "Lois, I don't know how long I'm going to be here, but I have every intention of keeping you safe for him," he said firmly. "If you can help me, then please. I need to know."

Lois gave him a long, measuring look before she nodded. "Don't say I didn't warn you," she said. She pushed herself off the couch and stood, holding out her hand.

Clark regarded her carefully and hesitated for just a moment, but then he took the steps he needed to be an arm's length away from her. He placed his hand in hers.

Lois squeezed his hand and pulled him around the back of the couch. "Sit down," she said.

Clark sat in the middle of the couch and let go of Lois's hand. It fell to her side as she walked away. He turned his head in time to see her flick the light switch at the entrance. The hallway went dark and the only light was now the lamp in the lone corner of the living room. Puzzled, he followed her with his eyes as she returned to stand in front of him. Her figure blocked out most of the light as he stared up into her face.

"The darkness will help," she explained. "You need to rely on your other senses for this."

Clark nodded, though the darkness was actually putting him on edge. His nerves rattled and he breathed out, trying to relax.

"Close your eyes."

He nodded, doing as he was told.

Lois sat in his lap.

Clark jerked, his hands automatically placing themselves on her waist to steady her. "Lois!" he yelped. He couldn't stand, not when she was straddling him with her legs folded on either side of him. "What are you doing?!"

She tilted her head to the side questioningly, though he saw her biting back a laugh. "Don't be prissy, Smallville," she said casually. "You asked for this."

His hands flexed on her waist and he felt her curves beneath the oversized jersey. He had a flashback to the only other time she had been on his lap, except then, she had on considerably less clothing. His hands shot up, as if burned, and he didn't know where to put them. "I didn't ask for _this_," he stated vehemently.

Lois sighed, their close proximity obviously not a problem for her, and blew out a breath that ruffled her long bangs. "Do you want to learn or not?" she asked impatiently. "Pay attention and do what I say." She scooped her hair so it all fell over one shoulder. "And if you could keep your questions to yourself, that would be fantastic."

Clark frowned, muscles tensing, the rigidity in his body apparent.

"Relax."

He had a lapful of warm Lois. Clark gave a shaky laugh. "Easier said than done," he said.

He shut his mouth when she glared at him, though he tensed further when she shifted on his thighs. "Do you have to be on my lap?" he asked, hoping he didn't come off as desperate as he thought he did.

_This is for her _protection_,_ he reminded himself. _God, she smells good._ He leaned back as far as he could on the couch, which really wasn't anything at all.

Lois noticed and rolled her eyes. "I'm helping you the way I helped him," she said, but she was quick to add, "Not the same exact way. I was maybe wearing just this…" She looked thoughtful as she picked at the sleeve of his championship jersey, but paused as a blush flared on his cheeks. She bit her lip, obviously hiding a laugh. "… you get my drift." He looked at her hopelessly. She took pity on him and said, "Look, Clark. All you're going to do is extend your hearing and then rein it in until the only thing you hear is my heartbeat."

"You can sit right over there for that," he said, pointing behind him at the dining table.

Lois leaned back, her behind resting on his knees. She kept her balance by reaching out and placing her hands on the back of the couch, creating a sort of enclosure around him.

"I need to be close to you." She grabbed his chin and tilted it up so he was looking straight into her eyes. Seriously, she said, "This is about connection, about feeling something so intense that it's etched in your memory."

Sadness fleetingly touched her brow, but it disappeared so quick he wasn't sure he had seen it at all. Her hand dropped from his chin to rest on her thigh, but she didn't break their eye contact. "I know that you're determined to be an absolute blockhead about certain things, but you asked me to teach you," she said. "Let me." She signed an 'x' over her heart. "I swear, no funny business."

Absorbing her words, Clark forced his limbs to loosen even with her body warming his lap. He took a couple deep breaths, centering himself. His hands, still hovering up in the air, crossed over his chest. Lois shook her head and grabbed his hands, placing them at his sides. His palms lay flat on the couch cushions, away from her bunny pajama pants.

"Close your eyes."

_This is a bad idea._ Clark paused briefly before he did as he was ordered. He exhaled slowly.

"Stretch your ears," she said. He tried to ignore her powerful stare and concentrated on following her instructions. "What do you hear?"

The sounds of the city were open to his senses. The nightlife hummed in his ears, busy and moving, an entirely different world from the day. Construction workers pounded and clanked their tools and machinery to finish the new skyrise apartments on 11th street, laborers drilled into the road on 1st and broke apart the fractured concrete, while clubs reverberated with the music thumping from their insides. Cars honked, dogs barked, people yelled, laughed, sang. Hundreds of conversations of those awake blended in his head, one jumbled mess, snippets occasionally tearing apart from the whole.

"Care to par–"

"– it's way past your bedtime –"

"–elve bucks, buddy!"

"Quiet shift –"

"– speeding, officer."

"– such an ass–"

"– marry me?"

The last one made him smile unwittingly. To Lois's question, he simply answered, "Metropolis."

"Keep your hearing there," she said. "Now pick out my heartbeat."

His brow creased. He tried to follow her instructions, but with her in his lap, he knew where she was and his hearing almost automatically leapt to her. Her heartbeat was a muted drum at the back of his head. That was entirely too easy. "Shouldn't you be farther away so I can't sense you?" he asked, eyes still closed.

"My way or the highway, Smallville," Lois replied flippantly. "Now concentrate."

Clark sighed, but once again used his abilities to hear the whirl of the city at night. Though it was extremely difficult, he pretended he was alone atop the apartment building, gazing at the twinkling lights below. The cityscape flickered to a white void and his eyes snapped open.

The first thing he saw was Lois's frown. The shadows made her expression darker as she said, "Keep your eyes closed."

Nodding, he tried again. This time he didn't imagine he was anywhere. He simply let the city flow over him. It was relatively simple to spread out his hearing. But determining the minute sound of a heartbeat amid the larger and more demanding sounds of the city was daunting. He listened for one, but he heard them all.

He grunted in frustration, Lois's body heat not helping the process. "There are thousands of sounds in my head – you want me to hear a metaphorical needle in a haystack."

"You don't _hear_ needles in a haystack," she retorted.

"You know what I mean!" he exclaimed, opening his eyes again. He frowned up at her, and he knew she could see him better than he could her. The light from the lamp touched his face every so often when she moved to one side. "How does he pick one person's heartbeat underneath all the other layers?"

"I'm not just anyone, Clark," Lois stated, but without a hint of arrogance. It was fact. This was a woman secure about her place in her husband's life. With all her hair positioned over one shoulder, the curve of her neck was highlighted by the dim glow of the lamp. His fingers itched to feel the exposed skin.

She considered him carefully. "The opposite way, then," she muttered to herself. She nodded. "Okay, Smallville."

Lois's hands moved back and then they were on his shoulders instead of the couch. He tensed, but mentally calmed himself with the sounds of Metropolis.

"You're thinking too much," Lois said. She leaned forward and shifted her weight on his legs. "Don't think." Slowly, she laid her palms on his cheeks and stared deeply in his eyes. Again, she said, "Close your eyes."

Clark saw the flecks of gold in her gaze before he followed the order for a third time. The next thing he knew, her lips were next to his left ear, the ends of her hair brushing his black T-shirt. His knee-jerk reaction was to lurch away, but he forced himself to remain still.

"Listen to our home," she murmured. Her hands returned to his shoulders. "Hear me."

Swallowing and doing his best to ignore Lois's attractive allure, Clark soaked in the quiet stillness of the apartment. The hushed sounds of their breathing filled the spaces between them. Any remaining tension in his body gradually drained away with the soft, steady tempo of their breaths.

"Focus," she said. Her mouth was still next to his head, her lips grazing the shell of his ear. She repeated, "What do you hear?"

He didn't know when, but they had both started speaking in quiet tones. "Our breathing…" he answered faintly.

Lois pulled back slightly, the side of her head skimming his temple. She whispered, her breath a light puff of air against his cheek. "Now?"

His fists clenched at his sides. Clark counted the beats of her breathing to keep himself grounded. "The same," he replied. "Just you and me..."

"Can you hear your heartbeat? Mine?"

Breathing in, Clark focused his hearing further.

_Ba-bump… ba-bump… ba-bump… ba-bump… ba-bump…_

"Yes."

Lois curled her hand around his, bringing it over his shirt so that his right palm laid flat against his chest. Then she repeated her actions with his other hand, except this time she placed his left palm over her heart. Her hands stayed on top of his.

Then Lois lifted their hands and slowly began tapping a rhythm over both their hearts. The beat was off at first, but Clark took over for her, switching the positions of their hands. He listened long and carefully, and made sure their fingers mirrored the pulse of their hearts.

The unwavering cadence of their heartbeats wove a spell of tranquility and warmth around Clark. Though his eyes remained closed, all his other senses were alive and heightened by the proximity of the woman in his lap. Though she remained absolutely still, he sensed her eyes roving over his face. Trace scents of her lilac shampoo tickled his nose, while the smooth lines of her curves continued to make him all the more aware of her.

"_Don't think."_

Another kind of warmth curled up inside him, and it had nothing to do with innocent affection.

_Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump –_

The rhythm sped up unexpectedly and there was suddenly a light sensation against his lips, breaking his concentration. His eyes snapped open, caught off guard by the fleeting caress. "Lo –"

Her hazel eyes shone like gems in the dark and he couldn't look away. "Shh… stop thinking." She slipped her hands out from under his now prone ones. "Feel. _Listen._"

Lois spoke close to his lips and Clark could taste her breath on his tongue, sweet like strawberries and absolutely maddening. "I am going to distract you," she murmured, "but you have to focus on my heartbeat. Nothing else."

"Nothing else," he echoed, throat dry.

_B-bump, b-bump, b-bump, b-bump, b-bump, b-bump, b-bump –_

First, he felt the back of her knuckles trail down his cheek. Then her left hand slid into his hair. His own hands had fallen to the curve of her hips, but she didn't react – her eyes continued to roam his face, her wandering fingers ghosting down the side of his torso.

Not once did she look away from him.

Indecision warred on her face, and for the briefest of moments, it felt like she was looking _into_ him. Longing and tenderness colored her expression next and it was the softest he had ever seen her. She cupped his face in her palms.

Her eyes flickered to his forehead and she whispered, "Just once." Her hazel eyes pleaded with him to understand as she searched for something in his gaze. "I promise."

Lois touched her right wrist upon his brow, the crystal of her bracelet cool against his skin. That same peculiar tingle from before darted down his spine, and he felt a rush of fierce emotion. She smiled.

And then, she kissed him.

Her lips teased his, soft and smooth, electrifying his senses. Like they always did. His fingers clutched her waist. Her hands skimmed down his cheeks, then his neck before settling at his shoulders again. He didn't have a chance to respond, not when she was already pulling away, dragging a little of his lip as she let go.

Lois looked down at him, like she was waiting for something. He couldn't imagine what for because wasn't she supposed to be kissing him? She bit her lip, uncertain, then moved to her knees as if to get off his lap.

Clark surged up, his arms coming under hers so that his hands gripped her shoulders from behind. The left part of his jersey was dragged up with the sudden movement, and he could feel her bare skin as his elbow pressed against her side.

He caught her surprised gasp with his mouth, falling back against the couch. Her weight once again pressed him as her lips opened to his ministrations and she wound her arms around his neck. He drowned in the same dizzying feeling from his first day in the future as he kissed her, deep and certain and wanting. He felt her all around him, how she invaded his senses, leaving nothing but her.

Their heartbeats – a constant thrum in his head – grew louder and faster, the musical score to their collision.

Her hands entangled themselves in his hair as his fell to clench her bared sides, the jersey falling over his arms. He massaged the middle of her back and touched her silken skin, shadowing every curve. The delicious warmth spreading through his limbs tightened in his gut as she melded herself closer and closer against him. Her dark brown locks tumbled like a curtain around their heads as she tipped his head back.

Lois kissed him, kissed him until all he was aware of was her and their matching heartbeats.

And he surrendered.

A necessity for air caused them to break apart, breathing heavily and hearts racing, pounding in his ears. Her fingers played lazily with the hairs at the nape of his neck. Clark smiled against her lips.

"Lois," he breathed. He opened his eyes to find hers still closed.

Clark watched her eyes slowly open, noting a curious blankness about them. She took in his face and the most beautiful smile bloomed on her lips. It was so breathtaking that it prompted a matching one of his own. A beat later, and awareness seeped back into her gaze. Her smile faltered and realization came down swift upon her, chasing the light from her eyes.

He frowned, concerned. "Lois, wh–"

She placed her index finger on his lips and shook her head. "Patience was never one of my better qualities," she murmured.

His eyebrows furrowed. What was she talking about? She raised her wrist and he felt the cool surface of a stone against his forehead. She brushed his lips with hers just as a familiar tingle ran down his spine, and the same rush of emotion that flooded him checked itself.

Clark pulled back, blinking. Her heartbeat faded from his mind and then all he could hear was their mismatched breathing. What transpired replayed with startling clarity and his hands dropped from her sides like they had been singed. The red and gold jersey once again covered her torso as he stared up at her.

"Lois, I'm s –"

"Shh…" she interrupted, shaking her head again. "Be quiet. Please." Her left palm pressed lightly on the side of his neck, her other hand tracing the contours of his ring. "Just for a minute." She rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes.

Clark obeyed, but only because he was still reeling from the aftershocks. The pleasure he felt lingered, but was soon joined by generous heaps of guilt and consternation. He hadn't been fair to Lois at all. How could he have kissed her, knowing she was missing her husband? He remembered being caught off guard by her fleeting caress, and then an abrupt feeling of liberation, wanting only to feel the passion in Lois Lane that was unmatched.

Lois exhaled, the small puff of air tickling his face. "You heard me, right?" she asked.

"Yes, but –"

Lois shook her head. "When you're far away, think of this moment. Think of how strongly you made me feel. How much I feel for you. Remember and listen," she said quietly, pulling back so their foreheads no longer touched. "Listen and try to match my heartbeat among all the millions of sounds you can hear when you concentrate. Focus."

Her eyes wandered over his features and dashes of pleasure and nostalgia graced her face. "Even thousands of miles away, you should be able to pick me out of a crowd."

Clark looked up at her, unable to accurately describe what she made him feel.

Lois relaxed a bit and returned his look, somewhat bemused. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. I just…" He took in her bright hazel eyes and the soft halo around her head from the lamplight. "It's overwhelming."

_You overwhelm me._

Lois seemed to understand. "Just breathe, Smallville," she whispered, brushing a stray lock from his forehead.

"Just breathe."


	12. Interlude I

**Free Fall**  
Author: Krys Yuy  
Summary: Clark isn't willing to risk his heart again. But when Fate gives him a glimpse into his future, the only question is – how hard will he fall?  
Pairings/Characters: Clark/Lois, Chloe/Bart, Oliver/Dinah, Bruce/Zatanna, Justice League  
Warning: Spoilers up to _Hex_.  
Rating: PG-13/T  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used. This fic is purely for entertainment purposes only.  
Author's Notes: Sooo… yeah. You all want to kill me now, probably. Before you do, I want to thank you for all the kind birthday wishes. You're all very sweet and I appreciate you taking the time to add the greeting to your reviews. In other news, I have no excuse except real life. I'm sure you all know what I'm talking about. :P Unfortunately, grad school trumps fanfiction. Simple as that. And these last two months have been quite hellish and it's not going to get any prettier. If interested in progress, please remember to check out my LiveJournal sidebar and/or Twitter for status updates.  
Before I get into addressing this Interlude, I want to pimp out a special project that's been in the works by a few good folks over at DI. It's called the **Global Gratitude Project**. The project is dedicated to "uniting fans worldwide in an effort to give thanks and show appreciation to the cast and crew of Smallville". Basically, have you ever wanted to write a fan letter to someone on the cast and crew or of all them in general? Now's your chance! And to do it in style, no less. There will be three books where fan letters will be compiled – one for Tom Welling, one for Erica Durance, and one for the rest of the cast and crew. For more information on where to send letters and the other things that are going on with this amazing project, please visit their website: http(colon)//globalgratitudeproject(dot)tk/ (Obviously, replace (colon) and (dot) with the appropriate symbols.) Also, visit the GGP Twitter [http(colon)//twitter(dot)com/GlobalGratitude] for links to fan surveys – your answers will be included in the fan section of the books! But only for a limited time (they need to start designing the interior of the book w/ the answers in mind), you have a week to answer.  
GGP needs letters, guys! Why not add yours and show your Smallville love? I'm already in the midst of writing four (for Tom, Erica, the writers in general, and Justin), and I'm just getting started! I'd actually like to write to each of the cast members and maybe a few of my favorite writers on staff. Have any questions? Visit the above mentioned sites – the project leaders are way organized and know exactly what they're doing. They can help you with anything. Please send in letters! GGP will not be a success without letters from the fans! Frankly, I'm pretty excited about the whole thing and now's your chance to be part of this amazing fan endeavor as well. The deadline for letters is **January 18, 2010**.  
Now, for Interlude I. Yeah, see the 'I'? That's pretty much a guarantee you will see a 'II'. :P This current Interlude is Lois's POV of Chapter 9: _Complication_. After the first scene, it jumps because I really don't need to reiterate the whole chapter. And you all may want to kill me for the ending here as well (-coughscliffhangercoughs-), but that's the whole mystery. What do "they" know about this whole thing? Reading Chapter 10 and 11 with this ending in mind might clear up or confuse a few more things.  
Thanks to those who reviewed Chapter 11: superlc529, TheGryfter, anacaro, gisell, EdwardBella4ever17, cloisharley, Aaron Leach, Mayicita, drvr8, 25, Cassandra-, thepretender1031, jazzy lane, FindingRhenie, Jed52, Ily18, f1ameseeker, Caro, Hittokiri, Dannie Tomlinson, Seersha, CrazyLikeaFox, Evergreen, Azurite, xxxCloisloverxxx, breathalittlelonger, Vlacas, and kaito142. You all rock. I really, really hope you enjoy this installment. Without further adieu, please read, review, and enjoy!

* * *

Interlude I

A cold chill paralyzed Lois's body as Clark fell to his knees, his mouth releasing a terrible scream. Horror froze her before it was quickly joined by panic and anger, spurring her into action. She took a step towards Clark as he fell forward on his hands, his screams dying down only because he had to struggle to breath.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Lois yelled at Zatanna's back. Clark's fingers were tensing, his limbs jerking with spasms and Lois couldn't look away. "Stop it! Stop the spell!"

Zatanna didn't reply, though her arms were thrown out and she shouted something that Lois couldn't hear properly, not over the pounding of her pulse in her ears.

Lois started to run, but Oliver grabbed her wrist. "The spell's still active! Lois, you have to wait for Zee," he said.

She tugged on her hand roughly, but he didn't let go. Lois wanted to yell at him, but her words didn't have a chance to get out as Clark's screams picked up again. His anguish resounded loud and clear, breaking her heart.

Clark cut himself off, gritting his teeth as he tried to stave off the pain, his head ducked down to touch the ground. She had to help him, she had to get to him!

Though her eyes never strayed from Clark's pained form, she shouted, "I told you to stop!" Her fear for the past version of her husband incited her ire towards Zatanna, furious that the spell hadn't yet been canceled. "You're hurting him! Stop!"

Zatanna looked at Lois from over her shoulder, dismay evident on her exotic features. "I did!" she exclaimed, distressed. "I don't know why –"

Lois didn't want to listen to her excuses. She had to get to Clark. She elbowed Oliver and broke free, but he grabbed her by the shoulders. She struggled as he said, "Stop, Lois! Who knows what'll happen if you go near him?"

Clark needed her, that's all she knew. "Let go of me!" she shouted. She twisted away, ducking under Oliver's arm. He reached for her again, but she threw him off balance with a shove to the shoulder and a sweep to his feet.

Without looking back, she dashed past Zatanna and up the stairs, skidding along the platform and falling to her knees beside Clark. He had dropped to his side, curling in on himself, eyes closed and face locked in grimaces of pain. Lois pressed her hands to his cheeks and brushed his sweaty bangs away from his forehead, relieved when the strained lines of his face smoothed over. His torment faded and his entire body loosened.

"Relax, sweetheart," she whispered. Lois bent down to gently kiss his temple before she hugged him. She felt more than saw as his body eased completely under her touch. "You're going to be okay," she continued. "You're going to be fine."

Lois tucked her head under his chin, angling her face so all she could see was his black T-shirt, the clock partition hiding Oliver's Green Arrow equipment in the background. His breathing evened out into a low, steady rhythm. "We'll find another way," she promised, closing her eyes. Clark was okay. Clark was fine.

It hurt so much to see him suffer. She never wanted him to feel pain. She didn't want him to hurt, even if it meant the return of her husband. There had to be another method to get him home and return things to the way they were. She'd be in the arms of her husband before long, but in the meantime, she would be here for his past self.

"Lois."

She shut her eyes. "What, Ollie?"

"We should move him," her friend replied.

She felt his hand on her shoulder, and after a moment, she nodded. Oliver was right. She couldn't just curl up to Clark on the floor and wait for him to wake. Lois sat up and already missed his warmth. She worked her arm under his as Oliver did the same on Clark's other side. Together, they stood up and brought Clark with them, his head hanging down.

Lois clenched the back of Clark's shirt and felt Oliver's hand brush hers as their arms crossed behind Clark's back. She looked over and he gave her a reassuring smile, and Lois let some of her tension subside. She nodded.

"Come on, Boy Scout here isn't exactly light," Oliver said, timing his steps with Lois so they wouldn't trip.

With Clark supported by her and Oliver, they led him to the couch near the glass doors and windows. She came out from under his arm and let Oliver gradually lay Clark's body out on the cushions. While Oliver adjusted Clark's head and shoulders, Lois straightened out his legs, unable to stop the small smile when his long limbs had to hang over the edge of the couch.

Lois folded her legs beneath her and sat back on her heels as she positioned herself on the rug next to Clark. With one elbow resting on the cushions, she reached out to stroke his forehead. She could still see his face in the throes of unimaginable pain and she lifted his hand, kissing his palm.

"You're going to wake up," she said, "and I'll be seeing that gorgeous smile of yours soon." As she tightened her grip on his hand, she heard Oliver and Zatanna in the background.

"So, I'm going to take a wild guess and say that's not what was supposed to happen," Oliver stated.

"Of course not!" Zatanna replied, consternation and annoyance fighting to dominate her tone. "If I thought something would go wrong, I would _never_ have cast it."

"I know, Zee," Oliver stated. Lois kept her eyes on Clark's face, though she imagined Oliver was running his hand through his blond hair. "Check on Bruce's status. We need to figure this out."

Zatanna made a sound of agreement, but then called out, "Lois –"

"Not," Lois interrupted. She held up her free hand and shook her head. "… not now."

Oliver spoke in whispers this time and Zatanna responded. Then her heels clicked along the floor, fading as she walked down the hallway. Lois sighed and dropped her head, bringing Clark's fingers to her forehead. Her irritation ebbed slightly. She knew if she talked to Zatanna now, her misplaced anger would make her say things she didn't mean. Better that her friend was out of range.

Lois drew strength from the solid feel of Clark's hand in hers. At least she knew he was safe. The same couldn't be said for her husband, but he could take care of himself. His past self could as well, but she had to admit… this Clark was a bit more lost. It had been such a long time since she had seen her Clark so unsure of himself.

His past self needed her. Whether it was for support or simply a swift kick to the head, she didn't know.

Either way, she wasn't going anywhere.

"I'm here, Clark," she whispered, squeezing his fingers. "I'm right here."

–

Watching Clark fumble over himself was pretty adorable. It was one of many reasons she loved to tease him. This Clark reminded her of how easy it had been years ago. And she was glad he seemed perfectly fine and healthy, as if he had never experienced even an ounce of pain earlier that morning.

"How do I wear this thing?"

Lois leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom as Clark stood in the middle of the bedroom. A smile tugged at her lips as he held up the blue suit, a clueless expression on his face. It alleviated her stress somewhat to see him healthy and whole before her. When he frowned at her, she almost snickered.

She shrugged instead. Memories of how she and Clark first tried to figure out a costume had her fighting another laugh. Of course, his blue shirt, red jacket combination was never meant to last long, and she was glad that by the time Clark had told her, his costume had gone through an upgrade. Together, they had come up with a color scheme and general design before his mother had pieced together the masterpiece.

Lois had seen him change numerous times, had even helped him out of it a few times as well. Her lips quirked up – she doubted this Clark wanted to know that. "I've never seen you do it slowly. You sort of –" She twirled her fingers in a fast circular motion, picturing her husband's quick spin in her mind's eye. "– and there you go."

Lois watched as his puzzled frown turned back to the costume again. His hand moved along the edges at the back of the neckline. He pulled down the zipper till it stopped mid-back. He looked back at her for answers and she pushed herself off the doorframe. She gave her hips a wiggle.

"Shimmy your way in?" she suggested.

Lois enjoyed Clark's stare of disbelief, like he couldn't exactly figure her out. His eyes darted from her hips to the suit, and then he took a deep breath. He was so close. For one silly moment, she felt like holding her breath in anticipation. She could already see him in the suit, flashing his charming and breathtaking smile like countless instances before.

For some reason though, as Clark kicked off his shoes and looked pointedly at her, the smiling image felt a little… off. Bashfulness tinted past Clark's gaze as he waited for her to turn around. He was trying to be modest.

Trying to shake her unsettled feelings, Lois rolled her eyes. "It's not like I haven't seen it all before," she said nonchalantly. She almost added, _And I have seen it all_, but she didn't want to scare Clark off from the suit again completely.

"_Lois_." His tone conveyed his exasperation and impatience, but the hint of affection underneath only intensified her unease rather than abating it.

To cover, Lois waved her hand dismissively and said, "Yeah, 'no peeking'."

Clark watched her and she returned his look, eyes straying to the suit he held in his hands. He was finally going to put it on, after much badgering and insistence on her part, but now that the moment was here, she wasn't so sure she wanted to witness it. To see him in his iconic supersuit… Clark was no stranger, but he also wasn't hers. It was always there, in the back of her mind even if the lines had blurred a few times.

Though she was sure her expression didn't give anything away, Lois turned her head just in case Clark was able to spot her sudden mood change. Before she had even made a conscious decision, her feet were leading her towards the hallway, and suddenly getting some fresh air seemed like the best idea in the world.

"I'm going out," Lois said, keeping her tone casual.

"Wait," Clark called and she paused at the doorway. "Where are you going?"

She wasn't even sure. All she knew was she needed to breathe. "I need to check up on some things," she replied vaguely. "You don't need me for anything, right?"

She didn't look at him and he didn't say anything for a few seconds. Then he finally replied, "No, I guess not."

He sounded confused, but Lois was thankful he didn't push the issue. She waved at him without looking back. "Just do what you do best," she said.

Then she was down the hallway, grabbing her coat and keys, and out in the relative safety of the area outside her apartment door. She leaned back against the wooden entrance and took a deep breath.

It had been fun introducing the suit to past Clark, but insisting he wear it was an entirely different matter from actually seeing him in it. He reminded her so much of her husband – _they are the same person, after all_ – the suit would be the final straw. Somehow, she knew that.

Lois was doing pretty well keeping it together, and it would remain that way, if she had any say.

–

"Let me get this straight."

Lois bit her lip as she received Chloe's full attention, the large computer monitor behind her going blank with a single tap on the touchscreen glass from her cousin. Her long blonde hair was tied into a ponytail that fell over her shoulder, and she wore a burgundy blouse over a pair of plain blue jeans. Chloe leaned forward on her desk and regarded Lois with narrowed eyes.

"Clark has been missing since yesterday morning. His past self is currently occupying his body, with no idea whatsoever of why he's pulled a 13 Going on 30 six years into the future. Zatanna used her hocus pocus, but it backfired horribly, so the hero brigade is regrouping while simultaneously working on their overseas mission. And right at this moment, Clark's body-stealing double is gallivanting around the city, dressed as Metropolis' resident red and blue superhero?"

Lois shrugged as if it weren't a completely huge deal. "That's it in one tiny, messed up nutshell," she said.

Chloe stood abruptly, her chair rolling backwards and her arms stiff and straight with her palms flat on the wooden portion of the desk. "And you're only telling me _now_?" she asked.

Lois had always planned on telling her, so the pinprick of guilt that grazed her was brief and quickly quashed. "Look, Chlo, I didn't want to worry you," she said. "It was a special day for you and Casanova, and you didn't need the stress."

Chloe's irritation faded and she sighed. "I appreciate that, Lo, really," she said, "but how can you be so sure this 'Clark' is telling the truth?"

Lois thought of his gentle smile, the warmth of his touch and the feeling of safety, security and _home_. "I know," she said softly.

Chloe shook her head. "Let me get in touch with Emil," she said. She reached for the desk phone. "Time travel is more his speed."

Lois hadn't finished telling her the whole story, and this was the part that worried her the most. Despite their conversation at Chloe's bridal shower – _If you had the chance to do it all over again, would you change anything? –_ this was an _actual_ chance for Chloe to change her fate. All it would take was one word to Clark. There was the real possibility that Chloe could die, but on the flip side, she could come out with no injuries whatsoever. Lois wasn't willing to take the chance, but it wasn't her body. And if the situation was reversed, Lois knew she would want to have the choice. Chloe deserved full disclosure.

Her gaze ran over Chloe's long scar before it moved up to her cousin's dual-colored eyes. "Chloe."

Her cousin paused and looked up before her index finger could start dialing. "Hmm?"

Lois turned her eyes upward, staring at the second level of Watchtower. "Clark – past Clark – he doesn't…"

"Doesn't what?" Chloe prompted.

Her gaze returned to her cousin, her expression uncharacteristically quiet and subdued. Lois finished, "… know. About the fallout from Doomsday." That time had changed all their lives, but Lois knew Chloe had been one of the few directly affected.

Chloe placed the receiver back in its cradle, her right hand fluttering over her scar. "I see," she replied. She looked down at the touchscreen of her desk. "Is that why you were in such a rush to leave the shower yesterday?"

Lois nodded, unsure of Chloe's blank expression. Her cousin had gotten frighteningly good at masking her emotions, and it was only thanks to Bart that Chloe was doing it less and less. Bringing up the past, however, led her back, and Lois hated that she was the one doing the leading.

"I told him not to ask. To not dig," Lois said. She walked closer to Chloe, standing directly on the other side of her desk. "He's struggling with it." She understood what it cost him, how much he wanted to save his best friend.

"But it's _Doomsday_, and the risk..." Lois placed a hand over Chloe's and quietly continued, "Something much worse could happen if he does something different. And, just in case you didn't know, I really, really wouldn't be able to take it if you – if you –"

Understanding passed over Chloe's face, breaking her empty mask. "Lois –"

"Once was enough," she interrupted. It was years ago, but Lois still remembered the call, still remembered how the General informed her in his gruff and blunt way that her uncle and cousin had passed away.

Lois straightened as she felt Chloe squeeze her hand and she squeezed back. "Remember our conversation yesterday? When you first got to the Ace of Clubs?" Lois asked.

_If you had the chance…_

"Lois," Chloe began. "My answer is the same." She looked down at her engagement ring.

Relief swept over her and Lois realized how much she had dreaded Chloe's answer. There were times when Lois felt like she knew Chloe so well, but then there were others when her baby cousin was a complete stranger.

"I'm through with taking one step forward and two steps back," Chloe continued. She gave Lois's hand another squeeze before letting go. She smiled at her. "Thanks for telling me about Clark." She reached for the phone again. "Let's see if I can't pry Emil away from S.T.A.R. Labs."

Lois turned away as Chloe made her phone call, and she approached the large round stained glass window at the opposite side of the room. She gazed at the expanse of Metropolis through the multiple pieces of colored glass and imagined her husband gracing its skies. The fingers of her left hand curled in at her side.

"You should get some rest," Chloe's voice said from behind her. "Go home. I'll try to figure something out."

Lois didn't move.

She felt Chloe come up behind her. "Are you okay?" her cousin asked.

Lois raised her clenched fist and unfurled her fingers. "Yeah," she replied. "Of course."

"Lois."

Her simple white gold wedding ring gleamed under the light of the tinted sunbeams. She paused to stare at it for a moment more before she looked back out over Metropolis. "Something's wrong," she whispered. "Something's wrong in the sense that something feels right."

"… what?"

Lois turned to meet Chloe's confused expression. "I'm a lot calmer than I should be considering Clark's gone missing," she said.

"You're keeping it together, like you always do," Chloe replied. "You never crumble under pressure."

"This is different, Chlo," Lois said. She started pacing the floor, walking back and forth in front of the large monitor. "I'm worried, but something's holding me back from freaking out entirely."

"Is it the other Clark?" Chloe asked with a raised eyebrow.

Lois stopped. "It's not him," she replied. _At least, not completely._ "It's something else, but I don't know what." She absentmindedly rubbed the turquoise stone of her bracelet.

"You know what they say about gift horses," Chloe replied. She walked up to one of her smaller computer monitors and started typing.

"Yeah, well –" Lois tried to string her thoughts together in a way that made sense. "Going crazy without going _totally_ crazy is making me even crazier."

Chloe's typing came to a halt. "You want to run that by me again?"

Lois groaned. "Forget it. I don't even know half of what I'm saying right now," she replied. "I'm working off my nerves."

"Resting is probably a good idea," Chloe suggested again.

Lois barely registered her advice. Her mind was already switching topics, falling back on what had been nagging her since her restless night of almost no sleep. "I've been debating talking to my frosty father-in-law," she said.

"You haven't yet?" Chloe asked, surprised. "I would've bet my Watchtower monitors that was Clark's first stop once he realized he wasn't in Kansas anymore." She paused. "You know what I mean."

"I only thought of it last night, but Ollie and Bruce already had Zee in mind as a quick fix-it," Lois replied. "I was eager to get Clark back, and with that solution already in their back pockets, I thought… well, I didn't think about it at all." After a good deal of pacing, she finally plopped down in one of the rounded orange chairs placed at the front of Chloe's desk. Though she had her reservations about magic because of its effects on Clark, she also trusted Zatanna. "I thought the spell would work."

There was a difference between worrying over someone and missing them. Her worry level wasn't as high as it should be considering her husband's whereabouts were unknown. But that didn't mean she missed him any less. In fact, she was missing him fiercely. _God_, she missed him.

"What are your theories on where Clark – our Clark – is?" Chloe asked, interrupting the flow of Lois's contemplation.

Lois shot Chloe a grateful smile as she moved on to a less painful train of thought. "If his past self is here, I'm going with a good ol' fashioned body swap."

Chloe nodded. "So, his past self is here in the future with us. While he's stuck in the past, six years back," she thought aloud. "Plausible. One of the more likely scenarios."

Lois wasn't quite sure she wanted to know about the endless possibilities, but still asked, "Other scenarios being…?"

Chloe hesitated before she answered, "He could be at any point in time, not necessarily where his past self came from. Or imprisoned somewhere."

Lois shut her eyes and slowly let out a breath. "I think I do need some downtime. Maybe a cup of coffee from Metro," she said, opening her eyes. "Call me if you and the doc come up with anything." She pushed herself out of the chair, hanging her coat over her arm. Then she walked over and wrapped her arms around her cousin.

Chloe hugged her back tightly and whispered, "Let me handle it for tonight, Lo."

Lois tightened her hold before she pulled back and kissed Chloe's cheek. She smiled at her, nodded once, and turned to leave. A breeze swept past her and her heart jumped, but then she heard the voice accompanying it.

"Leaving so soon, sweet stuff?"

Swallowing her disappointment, she took a breath and turned around with a smirk. Bart looked at her expectantly, dressed in black track pants and a mustard-colored hoodie. She replied, "Tracking down informants, diving into the seedy underbelly of Suicide Slums, looking for that perfect headliner – no time to chitchat, Casanova." She gave a short wave. "Chloe can fill you in."

Bart raised his hand in goodbye, though she could tell he was puzzled. Before Lois left through the stained glass double doors, she saw him peck her cousin on the lips. She heard his voice drift into the hallway as she headed for the elevators.

"So, what'd I miss?"

–

Lois kicked off her sneakers in the hallway, heading straight for the living room. She placed her empty coffee cup on the dining table. "Clark?" she called out, wondering if her husband's past self was back from patrol.

No one answered.

She sighed and fell backward over the armrest of the couch, bouncing slightly on the cushions. She stared up at the cream ceiling, her thoughts swirling.

_Clark…_

She didn't need a repeat of mindless staring. She had enough of that the night before. Lois sat up and reached for the files under the coffee table. Her notes spilled across the glass surface as she rummaged through them. She picked up a copy of the police report regarding the robbery at Orson Bank & Trust. The small group of perpetrators each had a flower tucked into their coat pockets – their calling card, maybe? The two other bank robberies, ones that happened before and after the Orson case, had different M.O.s, but they too had a strange signature.

Lois suspected there was something more going on, the oddities too peculiar to be a coincidence, the targeted banks all minor branches and holding not even a tenth of Metropolis First National Bank. There was a connection between all the cases, but she just couldn't see it, and why the hell was _nothing_ going right?

Dewey still hadn't gotten back to her about the current gossip spreading on the streets. Her source's appearance may have been off-putting and questionable, but she knew his information was good. He had promised her by Monday. But she needed a lead, needed the information _now_.

Frustration swelled inside her and she threw her notes down, the other papers scattering with the force.

_Slow down, Lo. Breathe._

Lois imagined his voice at her back, the caress of his fingers on her neck and her knots of tension smoothing under his tender touch.

She pressed the heels of her palms against her closed eyes.

_Clark, where are you?_

–

The sound of the sliding door opening and closing roused Lois from her light sleep. She opened her eyes and lifted her head from the back of the couch, smiling when she saw her husband in his saving-the-world uniform. A familiar thrill shot through her as she took in the familiar red and blue and dabs of yellow, and all she wanted to do was curl up in his arms and fall back asleep.

But then she looked into his eyes and saw what was missing. Her smile faded.

Lois hated the moments between sleep and awareness when, for a few precious seconds, she thought everything was right in her world. She remembered why she hadn't wanted to see him in the suit. Clark's sympathetic look only made her feel worse and she pretended as if she hadn't been fooled, as if he hadn't affected her at all.

"You look good," she commented. She pushed the ache deep down inside of her as she scrutinized him from head to toe. He wore the suit well, even though he still seemed a bit self-conscious. She grinned. "Am I right, or am I right?"

Clark pinched the fabric at his side. "It's… not so bad," he conceded.

"Not so bad, huh?" She arched an eyebrow. That was a big admission, considering his initial reaction to the costume. She commented, "I guess patrol went well."

"The Blur-slash-Superman helped a few more people today," he replied, beaming. He looked so innocently pleased, and Lois loved that about him.

"Chalk up another win for the good guys," she said. She pumped a fist in the air and spotted the DVD case she had pulled out from the shelves earlier. She wanted to watch it with past Clark and had fallen asleep waiting for him after she put the disc in the player.

Lois pulled at the long sleeves of her pajamas as she stretched her legs out on the couch. She cracked her neck before she took the DVD case from the coffee table. "Change out of that very hot ensemble and then come join me," she instructed with a wave to the bedroom. "We're going to veg out and watch a movie."

He followed her orders without protest. Within seconds, Clark zipped out of the room and returned in the same sleeping clothes he wore the night before, the breeze from his sudden motions stirring her ponytail.

"We are, are we?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

Some of her tension eased now that he was out of the suit. Lois held up the case. "_Back to the Future_," she said. She thought it was appropriate viewing, all things considered. She tossed the slim container back onto the coffee table. "I imagine that's what Clark is up to right now."

"You have a strange sense of humor sometimes," Clark commented, faintly amused.

"You say that now, but I bet a DeLorean would solve a lot of our problems," she said offhandedly. She reached for her mug of coffee on the table and took a sip, grimacing at the lukewarm taste. Her voice turned subdued. "I know that, if Clark is stuck in the past, he's trying as hard as we are."

"Lois…"

She shook her head. Theories had flitted in and out of her brain all day, and she was exhausted from worrying. There was a part of her that knew her Clark was safe wherever he was, but it still wasn't enough to keep all the anxiety away. There were too many questions, too many unknown factors.

"I need to not think about it for a couple hours," she said quietly. She placed her mug on the table and held out her hand. "Want to escape with me?"

Clark hesitated. He stared at her hand for a long moment, and Lois wasn't used to being unsure of Clark, not after all the years they had been together. She started to curl her fingers back, but then he wrapped his hand around hers. She beamed up at him and tugged him down next to her on her right side. He fell back against the cushions, her hand still twined with his. Her bracelet touched his skin and she reached down distractedly to pull the pajama sleeve back over her wrist.

"Ready to accelerate to time travel speeds of eighty-eight miles per hour?" Lois asked. She grabbed the DVD remote and pressed 'play'. Deciding to make herself as comfortable as possible, she tucked her legs underneath her and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Sure," Clark replied, his tone preoccupied. He shifted in his seat and her hair skimmed along the side of his neck.

Minutes in, Clark adjusted his position again. He kept moving at random intervals, and Marty hadn't even gotten into the DeLorean yet.

Lois sighed and placed her hand on his leg to stop his bouncing knee. "Stop fidgeting, Smallville," she said. "I'm trying to watch a classic film here."

"Sorry," he mumbled.

She waited a second or two and then removed her hand from his leg. His bouncing didn't start up again, so she turned her attention back to the movie. A minute later, his fingers began tapping.

Lois stared at him until he met her gaze. She could tell by his sheepish grin that her annoyance came out loud and clear.

"I'll get some popcorn," he said, standing up.

"Yeah… you do that." Lois followed him with her eyes. Then she moved to the opposite side of the couch and leaned back against the armrest, her knees pulled up to her chest. She wasn't looking to purposefully fluster him. Not tonight, anyway. She called out, "Middle cupboard, second shelf."

Lois returned to watching and the DeLorean's speedometer hit eighty-eight and disappeared in a flash of light and flames just as Clark returned to the couch with a bowl of popcorn. He handed it to her when she reached for her coffee mug.

"Thanks," she said. She held out her cold coffee to him and smiled sweetly. "Could you?"

Puzzlement crossed his face for the briefest of seconds, but then realization dawned and her grin widened as he rolled his eyes. She looked at him expectantly and he focused his gaze on her mug. A second later, her coffee was steaming and she eagerly brought it to her lips.

The hot liquid warmed her and she let out of murmur of satisfaction. She grinned at him again in thanks and Clark shook his head, though he responded in turn. He sat down on the other end of the couch and didn't comment on her change in position, though he was visibly less tense.

Lois tossed a few popcorns in the air and caught them in her mouth. She saw Clark glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and flicked one at him. He plucked the popcorn midair with his hand.

"Too easy, Smallville," she said.

Clark shrugged and ate the treat. Lois lobbed another one at him and this time, he turned and caught it in his mouth before looking back at the television as if nothing had happened. Lois laughed and she spotted Clark hiding a small grin.

Feeling a bit lighter, Lois sat back with her mug of coffee and bowl of popcorn, and pretended that things were okay, just for a little while.

–

A few hours later, well into the sequel, Lois felt herself getting drowsier by the minute. Her mug lay discarded on the coffee table along with the empty popcorn bowl. Towards the end of the first film, she had gravitated closer to Clark and was now in her original position, her head on his shoulder, but with the afghan of the couch wrapped around them both.

She yawned for what seemed like the dozenth time, and felt rather than heard the rumble of Clark's low chuckle. "You should… go to bed, Lois," he said, his own voice tired and not all there. "It's… almost… two."

"No!" she protested, though it was punctuated by yet another yawn. "We have to complete the trilogy."

Clark mumbled something unintelligible.

Lois tilted her head and looked up at him. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open, and his head resting on the back of the couch. She smiled through her drowsiness. Sighing, she relaxed against him, and tugged on the arm he had draped over the couch. It came down over her shoulders and Clark shifted, but didn't wake.

With his warmth cloaking her and the faint sounds of the movie playing in the background, Lois allowed herself to simply drift away, his heartbeat a muted thrum under her palm.

–

When Lois next opened her eyes, white greeted her all around. For one brief second, she thought she was in the Fortress, but there was a distinct lack of cold wind. She sat up. There were no glittering columns of crystal or ice either, and she ignored the sliver of disappointment that ran down her spine.

Lois stood and for the first time, noticed she was barefoot and wearing a flowing ivory strap dress with a hem that stopped at the knees. She fingered the material, similar to silk but with an even softer, lustrous feel.

"A fancy dress for an extremely…" She did a complete turn, her hem swaying, and everywhere, there was white, white and white. "… bland dream. Not even a yellow brick road to lead the way."

Never one to just sit around and wait, Lois started walking in a random direction, trying to spot something, anything that wasn't pale and colorless.

"Well, it's not quite a dream, but close enough."

The warm tones of the voice washed over her, freezing her in place. Hope flickered in her chest, but Lois checked the dangerous emotion, her mind screaming caution. She held her breath as she turned slowly.

The man who stood some feet away was achingly familiar, dressed as if he were going to work at the Daily Planet. Classically handsome in black slacks and a charcoal gray button-up shirt, he was without a matching jacket, but a tie of an ever darker gray and matching business shoes gave his outfit its complete feel. Missing, however, were his ever-present glasses, which left his blue gaze unguarded and bare.

Something swirled in its azure depths and hope flared again in her chest, but this time she was unable to temper it. "Clark?"

He smiled, love shining from his eyes – strong, uninhibited and _there_. "I've been waiting for you."

"Clark," she whispered. His smile grew and he opened his arms. It was all the invitation she needed. "Clark!" Lois ran to him and jumped into his embrace.

Her husband caught her easily as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He held her to his chest and she felt his arms clasp her as close as he could. He buried his face in her neck as she breathed him in, his clean, woodsy, Clark Kent scent.

"Lo," he whispered. He pulled back to look into her eyes. "Lois."

He pressed a hard kiss to her mouth, and she reciprocated, pouring all her emotion into it, everything she had felt since she realized he had gone missing. Her worry, frustration, confusion, fear – she released it all into their kiss until there was only the sweet taste of relief and love, love, _love_. Judging by the desperate way he clutched her, she knew he had missed her as much as she had him.

"God, Clark," she murmured as their lips broke apart, taking in gasps of air. The hands she had entangled in his black locks fell to his neck as she voiced her thoughts aloud. "I've missed you."

Clark kissed her again, softly this time, grazing his knuckles on the smooth curve of her cheek. "I'm sorry," he murmured. He ran his gaze over her face and tenderly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "The crystal had to touch my skin."

"What?" Lois asked, puzzled. "What do you mean?" She stared into his blue eyes as she tried to decipher his words. "Where have you been?"

"I've been here…" His fingers skimmed his temple before he cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her chin. Clark smiled and pulled her close so he could lean in to whisper against her lips. "… the entire time."


End file.
